


For the Restless

by GoFloatYourself



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Smut, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29781306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoFloatYourself/pseuds/GoFloatYourself
Summary: Mako is stuck playing bodyguard to a spoiled, irritating rich boy who has no idea what the real world is like. He's bored and frustrated and desperate to get back to his regular life. But as the threats to the prince get a lot less theoretical, he's forced to confront the fact that he may have judged Wu wrongly from the start.After having the life he built for himself in Republic City completely destroyed, losing his home and his family and every sense of safety, acting as the carefree, wealthy life of the party is about the only thing Wu has left to hide his terror and his loneliness with. And to hide his ridiculous crush on the gorgeous, irritable firebender assigned to protect him. Obviously Mako wouldn't return his feelings, but maybe they can learn to get along at least, if he can just get Mako to relax now and then.
Relationships: Mako/Prince Wu (Avatar)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Feeling like Wu's characterization was extraordinarily shortchanged is hardly a unique take, but this is my contribution to fleshing him out a little more as a person, bundled into my most treasured ship from this fandom. This is set in the years skipped between the third and fourth season, with my perhaps taking a bit of liberty with the timeline, but generally canon compliant. 
> 
> The explicit rating is for the following chapters; this isn't a slow burn (which I adore reading, but don't have the patience to write), but some set up was required, heh. I don't own the characters or the setting, just borrowing for my little story. No beta, so mistakes are all mine.

“I want to be reassigned.” 

Chief Beifong let the statement pass over the desk between them like he’d said nothing at all. A folder sat open on the surface, long handwritten reports and a slew of identification photos visible among the contents. “We have new intelligence reports on the threats to the Earth Kingdom royal family you should go over.” 

“I want to be reassigned.” 

“And we’ll need the prince’s latest schedule of events so we can ensure extra security is provided when he’ll be around the public.” 

“Chief-,” She closed the file in front of her with an audible slap, and he shut his mouth. Then opened it again, “Chief-,” 

“How many of these requests will you require me to deny before you stop making them?” 

Mako’s fists clenched at his sides. “All I’m doing is going to parties and buying smoothies and listening to endless discussions on whether things should be made of silk or satin! You have a whole crop of rookies you can choose from to babysit his royal highness, why do I have to be pulled off the street while you’re rolling up the Triple Threats to watch some spoiled brat spend his money?” 

She shoved the closed folder at him rather pointedly. “As I said, we have new intelligence reports on the threats to the Earth Kingdom royal family.” 

“And he can get regular police protection for that! Why does he think he’s entitled to a personal chauffer in uniform?!” This might have been more compelling if he hadn’t already said it all a thousand times to no effect. And if Chief Beifong was given to any kind of sympathy. For anyone. 

“I realize this isn’t as exciting as the ‘Team Avatar’ duties you’re used to,” he could actually hear the sarcastic quotation marks, “Though it would be difficult to overstate the importance of protecting our only avenue for restoring order and stability to the Earth Kingdom. More importantly, I’ve yet to hear a compelling argument about why you are not suited to the job you have been _ordered_ to do, Mako.” 

He gritted his teeth and waved a hand behind him, indicating at the whole squad room in a broad sweep. “Look, any one of those guys would be thrilled to hold his highness’s hand while he foots the bill at every fancy restaurant in town. Maybe if I had grown up differently I would too, but I didn’t and I _don’t,_ and I can’t stand watching him flaunt his money everywhere while real crime is happening out on the streets!” 

The edge of snide dismissal that rode over her usually blank expression made his stomach sink. “That’s funny. Because I don’t recall you having any problem with watching the supposed flaunting of wealth when you dated the richest woman in Republic City.” She steepled her fingers over the desk, her stare daring him contradict her. “Twice.” 

There was nothing he could say that, and honestly, if Chief never-tell-me-about-your-personal-life-no-not-even-if-it-relates-to-the-job Beifong was taking jabs at his dating history then he had probably, actually, pushed this too far. Mako snatched the intelligence reports up, ground out the most respectful rendition of “Chief,” that he could manage under the circumstances, and retreated to his desk with what dignity he had left. 

Which, after more than two months of being at Prince Wu’s beck and call as his personal ‘security detail,’ trying to secure the entire premises of ritzy clothing stores and fancy restaurants and maintain his situational awareness of any possible threat while the prince flitted from place to place like the physical manifestation of whimsical wealth and privilege, wasn’t much. He shoved the chief’s comment aside – what the goddamn hell did she know about his past relationship with Asami and how he’d felt about the stratospheric wealth she had no problem bandying about? – and flipped open the intelligence reports. 

He’d been expecting the usual speculation on the movement to wipe out the royal family; in the weeks after the orgy of violence that had consumed the Earth Kingdom capital there had been a widespread and terrifyingly tenacious hunt through every nation by radicals determined to eliminate each and every remaining member. It had taken law enforcement some time to realize how relentless and far reaching the radicals could actually be, resulting in a frantic scramble to secure the single remaining member of the royal bloodline in Republic City once every other person in his family had been killed, even those who had been abroad and tried to go into hiding. 

There had still been whispers of a hunt to track down and eliminate Prince Wu, to put a real and final end to the royal line, when Mako had been assigned to act as his personal bodyguard, but never more than whispers. Instead of the same vague accounts of potential threats, he found himself poring over written recordings of violent rhetoric heard among the most recent Earth Kingdom refugees that had been admitted to Republic City and then a disturbing admission that the authorities had lost track of several of the most vocal and ardent among them. Several men who had consistently advocated for liberation through violence, specifically through the killing of Prince Wu, had left the refugee center and never returned, having seemingly vanished into the underbelly of the city. 

Well. That was something to worry about. Much of the time, things like this were just talk. But with the entire extended royal family wiped out, with even those traveling abroad killed off one by one until only Prince Wu remained, it didn’t seem prudent to dismiss it as a bunch of hot air now that they had confirmed there were untracked radicals in Republic City. Mako clenched his eyes shut and resisted the urge to bang his head against his desk. Untracked radicals were at large in Republic City, and he had to get back to the hotel to get ready to provide security for the most flighty, unserious person he’d ever met. 

He deeply, passionately, hated this goddamn job assignment. 

__________ 

The prince acted like his confinement in the enormous, luxurious hotel suite while Mako was at the station had been a harrowing and traumatizing trial, because everything had to be at maximum drama for the irritating man. Mako didn’t bother to pretend to indulge him. Maybe he couldn’t get himself reassigned, but that didn’t mean he had to act like his charge was anything but annoying. He wasn’t here to be the prince’s best buddy, despite how the man acted. 

Wu had planned an evening on the town, which felt inauspicious with the new intelligence reports sitting on the bedside table in the room Mako had been forced to move into at the far end of the hotel suite because his royal highness couldn’t stand to be left alone for any significant period of time. But the prince brushed off his concern and then attached to his arm, drawling that he couldn’t be in any danger while he had his ‘big, strong guy’ around. 

Something about the barrage of compliments on his strength and stature grated on Mako’s every last nerve. He couldn’t escape the feeling of mockery, particularly when he had the prince’s coiffed, tailored, pretty person dangling off of him, looking svelte and charming and beaming that effortless smile at everyone while Mako was dragged in his wake like a clumsy bore in his cheap uniform, with his barely concealed discomfort stuffed down beneath a dour expression. 

It really, _really_ didn’t help that his first reaction to seeing the prince in person had been a flush of heat through his chest and a very interested twitch of his cock. Wu’s lithe figure and easy grace, his quick, clever grin and laughing green eyes, his carefully maintained appearance, his expensive cologne, shit, all of it was perfectly, exactly his type. A childhood in Republic City had gifted him with little to no self-consciousness around liking men as well as women, but at some point he had wondered if he had something to be embarrassed about when he’d realized that he was primarily attracted to extremely strong, in charge women, and extremely pretty, effete men. Wasn’t that backwards? 

Particularly because extremely pretty, effete men didn’t like men like him. He wasn’t broad enough to act as muscle-bound eye-candy, his body honed for fighting endurance, not for bulk. But he also wasn’t refined enough to be anything like as glamorous as the type he wanted would no doubt desire to have on their arm if they were interested in anything more than eye candy. At least the strong women he’d liked had appreciated his bending prowess, but men had never seemed interested in that. Rich, famous royalty would want someone who had skills that were valued at their own level of society, not a working man’s or a soldier’s skills. 

Wu was the apex of everything that was unreachable about his preferences in men, and it rankled every inch of Mako, the way he tossed his money around as he rubbed elbows with the Republic City elite, everyone at the parties and fancy restaurants and theater shows ignoring Mako’s presence like he wasn’t there and certainly wouldn’t have anything interesting to say. Wu dragging him around and constantly demanding his attention just made him feel more out of place, since everyone else seemed determined not to acknowledge him. 

He’d escorted the prince through the rows of photographers capturing the attendees of the opening night of yet another swanky restaurant he would never have dreamed of setting foot in under other circumstances, got Wu seated and performed his own security sweep of the premises, to the obvious consternation of the floor manager, who eyed him the entire time like he thought Mako was going to make off with the good silver. When he returned to the table, Wu tugged him down into the empty chair beside him, insisting that Mako had to join them as he always goddamn did. 

He couldn’t exactly argue, so he sat stiffly, nodding at the array of wealthy industrialists whose gazes passed over him like he was invisible. Wu leaned close to point out things on the menu he was excited about, asking if Mako had ever tried this or that stupid expensive thing, and he tried not to notice how good the man smelled and not to roll his eyes at the same time. No, he hadn’t tried this or that expensive thing, of course he hadn’t, and he didn’t need Wu reminding him however tacitly that he was footing the bill with his endless royal coffers like Mako was some charity case he was supporting. He ordered without putting much thought into it and proceeded to ignore everyone as best he could, resisting the urge to duck his head down when the conversation immediately turned to Sato Industries and why Asami Sato had been unavailable to join them that evening. If anyone there knew he’d dated Asami he didn’t want them asking him why he thought she hadn’t turned up. 

Of course, that train of thought raised the chief’s comment from that morning, which turned unpleasantly in his mind. What the fuck did Chief Beifong know about his relationship with Asami? She was rich, but she wasn’t spoiled or vapid, she didn’t throw her wealth around or… the memory of their first date came rather insistently to mind. She’d had him meet her at a restaurant just like this one, a place he would have never imagined setting foot inside under other circumstances. She’d bought him a whole new outfit so he wouldn’t stick out, and he’d discarded his cheap clothes without a thought about how it could have felt like she was dressing him like a doll, not treating him like a person, had let her pay for everything and relished being on her arm and traveling among the upper echelons of society. 

She hadn’t made him feel like he didn’t belong. She’d complimented him, talked to him, held onto his arm and he’d felt wanted, like her easy spending on him meant she liked him, valued him. He frowned to himself. Was that really so different from what Wu did with his wealth? The prince bought Mako the same fabulous food he ate, offered to have him fitted and dressed at his own expense every time they wound up spending half a day in an upscale tailor shop – not that Mako had ever let him, pressed fancy cocktails into his hand when they were at high society parties, shared exclusive theater boxes with him when they went to shows. 

With an awful lurch he parsed the difference just as the entrees were delivered. Asami had made her interest clear from the start. He’d wanted her, and Asami had wanted him back. He’d never resented her wealth or how she spent it, because he’d never worried that his affections were regarded as unworthy, because he was certain they were returned. 

Wu primped and preened and moved among pretty, wealthy people with ease, he hit on every gorgeous woman he met, all of them wrapped in shimmery fabric and glittery jewels and a cloud of perfume, while Mako observed from the background, only now realizing the simmering feeling in his gut had been resentment and, hideously, _jealousy._ Even if he had any reason to suspect the prince was open to a same sex liaison, which, given the Earth Kingdom laws banning homosexual behavior, seemed unlikely, he wouldn’t want that with Mako. So, he just had to endure the flirting, watching him from behind, his hip cocked coyly to the side, lovely, narrow waist wrapped in perfectly tailored fabric, pants hugging almost criminally close over lean thighs and a tight, distracting ass, while those striking green eyes flickered over a giggling, flattered woman who probably only wanted him for his wealth and title. 

Which was fine. Just because Mako didn’t want him for those things didn’t mean that was wrong, or that it wasn’t the exact kind of attention the prince himself wanted. Not that he wanted Wu for any other reason. Or at all. He didn’t want _Wu,_ he reminded himself, just because the prince was exactly his type didn’t mean he actually wanted the silly, empty-headed, spoiled little- 

A hand on his bicep made him blink out of his thoughts, the prince’s too-appealing cologne enveloping him again as the man leaned close and murmured, “Hey, big guy, everything okay over here? Did they mess up your order?” 

Mako realized he’d been glaring down at his coq au van like it had personally wronged him and quickly shook his head, his gaze darting down to the hand on his arm. Did the prince have to touch him so goddamn much? Even his hands were distractingly attractive, slim and perfectly manicured, bewitching when he handled even something as simple as buttoning his coat, dexterous and graceful and making Mako wonder if they would handle him with that same dexterity, could easily imagine how the prince’s dark skin would contrast over his own pale, naked flesh and shit, his mind was wandering again. Amusement quirked across Wu’s face, teasing Mako for his wandering attention, though he couldn’t imagine how the prince would have looked at him if he’d had any way of knowing where Mako’s thoughts had gone. 

Before he could say anything, a loud crash echoed around the restaurant and Mako was half out of his seat, scanning the area. Nothing. Just a few glasses dropped, a waiter looking flustered as he knelt to gather the pieces. It was fine. He settled back into his chair while the other guests at their table averted their eyes, like he’d done something excruciatingly embarrassing, reminding all of them that he was here to work rather than one of their high society set. 

Wu still had a hand on his arm, but the way the prince was holding him had changed, even as he chucked and sang, “So on top of my security! My big, strong bodyguard!” cuddling close with a dramatic wobble in his chair. 

Mako wanted to shake him off, but he was all tension suddenly, his grasp on Mako’s bicep feeling like fear instead of playfulness, and he wondered if his warnings about the intelligence reports had actually made an impression on the man. But if the flighty little bastard had actually been listening, why in the world had he insisted on sticking to his plans that night? He cast his gaze over the restaurant floor one more time, partly to distract himself from the strange, rigid tension beside him, and begrudgingly didn’t try to dislodge the hold on his arm. 

The food was good. Excellent, actually, which was nice because the rest of dinner was a trial, lots of long, rambling pronouncements on the detriment of regulations to the progress of industry and the inability of the masses to grasp the necessary genius required to bolster the economy. The other guests were obsequious and wheedling, fawning at the prince, too obviously aware that he would have total authority to hand out contracts and create tax havens once he took his place on the throne. Whatever she said when she’d declined the invitation, Mako was certain this was why Asami hadn’t showed up tonight. She fought hard for every advancement of her company, and she didn’t want to be handed things she hadn’t earned simply because she’d sucked up to the right person. 

As they donned their coats, the typical invitations to move on to a smoking club were passed around, so the captains of industry could hold cigars and sip brandy and congratulate themselves on being masters of the goddamn world until the early hours. 

Wu had recovered his composure, and was his charming self, letting the begging of his presence at the smoking club wind around him, preening at the attention, and whining loudly when Mako reminded him of the new intelligence on Earth Kingdom radicals and the challenge for security that going to a secondary location involved. To his immense relief, the prince acquiesced to his point in the end, waving the various gentlemen off and letting Mako escort him back to the vehicle with minimal fuss. 

Of course, once they were on their way back to the hotel, he snuggled against Mako and crooned about how sweet it was that he was concerned for Wu’s welfare like it wasn’t his actual fucking job to keep the man safe. This time he didn’t bother trying not to roll his eyes, and pointedly reminded the prince that the only reason he was here was to provide security. It helped him deal with the warmth and slight weight of the man at his side, with the pawing of quick, clever hands over his jacket. It also helped with the appalling fact that part of him really wanted to laugh as the prince called him mean while gently shaking him for emphasis because the man was startlingly fetching when he was being childish. 

He spent the final few minutes in the vehicle stabbing that last thought to death while kicking himself for thinking it, because he was an excellent multitasker. He felt the eyes of the police detail in the hotel lobby on them as they headed for the elevator, Wu flitting around him and complaining about turning in early. If he were another detective, he knew their gazes would be full of sympathy at the aggravating handful he was responsible for guarding, but Mako had never quite shaken his initial unpopularity among the ranks, and their attention felt unkind rather than commiserative. 

Whatever. He rolled his shoulders, trying to get some of the accumulated tension out, ignoring them like they weren’t there. He hadn’t joined the force to make friends. As the elevator doors were closing behind them, he heard a bang and sighed even as his instincts jolted as they had in the restaurant. Someone had probably overturned a luggage trolly. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened, with the hotel staff tripping over the coterie of officers that had become permanent fixtures since the prince had moved in. They rose to the top floor as Wu draped himself extravagantly against the wall by the buttons, stretching and undulating as he complained, probably completely unaware of how he looked as he arched his back and tugged at the cloth folded around his neck to loosen it. 

He was talking about how much he’d wanted to stay out, to rejoin the nightlife in Republic City, but it didn’t seem like his heart was in it. Mako was vaguely horrified to discover that he’d reached a point of familiarity with the prince’s whining that he was pretty sure he could detect whether or not the man was sincere, even as he said all the usual things about wanting to be out and about like he used to. He valiantly tried not to groan aloud. What was his professional life coming to, that he was becoming an expert in the interpretation of privileged whining? 

The ding of arrival merited at least half of Mako’s attention, and he stepped out onto the top floor, looking right, then left in his customary visual sweep, but he never got the chance to look left, because he was immediately struck by a vicious blow to the stomach, the sharp explosion of pain suggesting brass knuckles, winding him and sending him to his knees, and then Wu was dragged past him with a startled yelp. 

It had been a while, but his instincts knew exactly what to do even as the agony in his gut briefly shut down most conscious thought. He wasn’t sure why exactly; Kuvira had called it soldier’s instinct the same day she’d taken his brother away from him for her very important mission in the Earth Kingdom. Mako never been in any army, but that didn’t stop her description from ringing true to his experience. 

His brain absently noted that the pair of officers that were supposed to be stationed by the elevator up here were nowhere to be found, and counted three assailants moving around him, clocking scuffed and worn shoes, threadbare and stained pants, while a rough voice growled out, “Time to join the rest of your family, _your highness,_ ” and heard tearing fabric and an abrupt, almost animal noise of terror from Wu. 

He dragged in a wet, rattling breath with no small amount of difficulty, his chest burning and protesting, and got his wits about him just quickly enough to dodge a follow up blow aimed for his head, the sight confirming brass knuckles and the likelihood that the second blow would have killed him as he rolled away and to his feet with the natural grace that had saved him so many times in the pro bending ring. A hulking man, many inches taller and wider than he was, wrapped in layers of ragged clothing and a distinct dumpster odor, faced off with him, fists up, blocking the rest of the hallway, while the other two dragged the prince toward the door that led to the stairwell. 

His stomach throbbed and ached where he’d been hit, promising bruises and discomfort for days to come, and the man didn’t wait for him to move, stepping forward and taking another swing at his head. Mako wasn’t exactly a boxer, but he was fairly certain he could fry the fucker if he needed to without actually bothering to meet him fist for fist. But the fucker wasn’t the point, was here to waste his time doing exactly that so his friends could escape with the prince to finish what their radical colleagues had started. 

Abruptly, Mako dropped his guard, registering his opponent’s surprise as the man hurtled at him, turning himself into the attack rather than away from it, dropping toward the floor, then rolled right past the thug, bending a lovely arc of fire in his wake and hearing a yell of pain with some satisfaction. His way was clear, but seconds mattered, and he knew that if he lost of sight of his charge, his ability to protect him would be catastrophically compromised. The first of the men with Wu was at the door, letting go of the prince to reach for the handle, and Mako took very, very careful aim and let out a harsh breath. 

The electric lights seemed to dim, their soft glow completely outmatched as a bolt of lightning filled the hallway with harsh, white-blue brilliance, lancing forward from his fingers, toward the kidnappers, snaking between the men and striking the metal of the doorhandle just as the leading man grabbed it. 

He screamed, the light flickering around him, and dropped and Mako sprinted toward them, there just as he hit the ground, that soldier part of his brain dispassionately taking in Wu’s fear, his washed-out expression, his ineffectual escape attempts having accomplished nothing but the tearing of his fine clothing, his thin wrists held roughly in one of his captor’s hands, while the man raised the other toward Mako in a fist. The hulking thug who’d tried to delay him was back on his feet, stomping toward them, worsening the odds as he assessed that Wu would not be able to do anything effective to protect himself, and had a high probability of receiving a critical injury as these men could only be planning to kill him, and if they couldn’t do it in whatever off-site propaganda setting they’d intended, they were likely to settle for doing it at all. 

Protecting Wu was the priority, capturing their assailants a distance second, and Mako caught the fist swinging his way, gathering fire in his palm and darting in as the man screamed, his grip on the prince slackened by the agony of his singed skin. He released the man’s fist, tried to ignore the smell of burning flesh, pulled Wu tightly against himself, sheltering his slim body in case Mako hadn’t calculated the timing right, and spun them, almost like they were dancing, away from the stairs. The thug was right there, ready for his evasion this time, throwing himself in Mako’s path, but he didn’t seem to have expected the firebender to have his guard back up, maybe because he only had one arm free. One arm that he clenched and threw hard, driving his elbow into the asshole’s face while he felt himself absorbing the momentum of the man’s bulk against his back, making him stumble. 

He didn’t lose his footing, had been expecting the blow, kept Wu clenched close, safe against his front. The thug obviously hadn’t been expecting the blow, and he did stumble, lurching past Mako to come to a halt next to his companion with the burned fist, snarling as he cupped a hand over his face, where blood streamed from his nose. 

Mako was loathe to release Wu, to relinquish the certainty of his charge’s safety and location that the close contact granted, but he needed both hands for this. He shoved the prince behind himself, dropped into a solid stance, whipping his hands through the graceful motions of summoning fire to himself and bending it with his body. He got a moment to savor the looks on the faces of the two who were still conscious, to watch them each take a hesitant step back, and then he bent a roaring wall of fire right at them with a hard thrust of each fist. 

The hallway acted exactly as he’d hoped, funneling it straight forward, catching their retreating bodies and smashing them against the door to the stairs, which gave out with an explosive bang. The door and the kidnappers flew into the darkness of the stairwell, and as soon as he was sure it had worked, Mako spun on his heel, grabbing Wu by the upper arm, forcibly marching him down the now singed and ruined carpet, past the scorch marks that striped all the way up to the ceiling, to the suite, which he could only pray was as secure as he’d left it. Chasing the kidnappers, finding out where the fucking officers who were supposed to be stationed at the top floor elevator were, all of that was secondary. He scanned every inch of the hallway with his eyes as he shoved the key into the lock, the warmth of Wu’s arm under his hand telling him the prince was still there, still alive. 

Mako hadn’t been in a real fight in so long, and the adrenaline and pumping blood were old friends, sharpening his senses, making him feel quick and deadly. But any amount of excitement on a bodyguard job was too much excitement, and he couldn’t even check that his charge was safe until they were out of the security nightmare that was the straight, uncovered hotel hallway. Anyone else who showed up would have a clean, uninterrupted shot at them, and he couldn’t be sure they would be non-benders like the first attackers. 

Wu was too dazed to speak, a minor miracle in its own right, and was tugged easily inside. He left the prince by the bolted door and swept the suite, every room, fingers warm and itching to throw fire at something. No target presented itself. The premises secured, he returned to the prince, finding him still out of it. He didn’t respond to Mako’s question about whether he was alright, just leaned on the wall by the door and blinked at him, and he finally hissed and reached out, checking for himself, trying hard to calm his breathing and his frantically beating heart. 

Wu was surprisingly still. After a scare like that, Mako would have imagined he’d be trembling, but he wasn’t. He gripped the prince gently, running his fingers over his shoulders, down his arms, then his chest, his sides, watching his face carefully. The basic field medicine check for injury would have to do until he could get the man talking, check for blood, check for pain response. They pressed close and he leaned in to force his hands behind Wu, over his back, then the backs of his thighs, checking his palms. No blood. His clothes weren’t in great shape, the emerald green coat torn at the shoulder and down the middle, the silk shirt ripped along a center seam, but the prince gave no flinch to betray any pain, and Mako’s hands were clean when he finished. Unharmed, but for the bill to the tailor, and Mako let out a sigh of relief. 

“What are you doing?” 

Eyes he didn’t remember closing snapped open, and Mako realized he was still holding the prince, both hands on the man’s sides. Wu’s voice was thin and soft, but as surprisingly steady as his body. If it weren’t for the awful expression of fear sketched across his face, shadowed by strands of his honey brown hair, messed down from its usual styled perfection to sweep over his forehead, he would have seemed totally fine. Not entirely unharmed then. 

“Checking for injuries. You didn’t respond when I asked if you were hurt.” 

“Ah.” He was still pressed against the wall, still blinking those pretty green eyes at Mako as if he didn’t quite know what either of them was doing there, but at least he was talking. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Of course, I’m okay. You checked. So, I must be okay.” 

Under other circumstances, he would have read that as sarcasm, but these were definitely not those circumstance. Wu wasn’t touching him. Wasn’t calling him silly names and hanging off his arm and pulling him around like he was an oddly resistant plaything. It was startlingly disconcerting, him holding the prince while Wu’s arms hung at his sides, fingers splayed over the garish wallpaper of the suite. It was more disconcerting that Mako didn’t want to let go. It felt like Wu wasn’t okay. 

He was though, or, he was uninjured, and that was Mako’s job, so that was the extent of his concern. He forced himself to let go, running a hand through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before he shook himself back into professional mode. The officers that were supposed to be stationed on this floor were missing. The bang he’d heard as the elevator doors slid shut on the hotel lobby seemed much less likely to be an overturned luggage trolly now. He snatched up the phone and called the station. 

__________ 

It took hours to arrange the altered security detail around the hotel. Chief Beifong had arrived barely twenty minutes after he called the precinct, and Mako mulishly admitted to himself that she was putting her money where her mouth was about how important this bodyguard job was to the Republic City police, suiting up and coming all the way down to the hotel personally this late at night. She and another detective questioned Wu to get his recollections of every part of the night. Mako knew they were trying to figure out if there had been people watching them at dinner, coordinating when to strike at the hotel. It was uncomfortably likely that that was the case. 

The radicals had split up to stage a diversion down in the lobby, stealing a police radio while the lobby security was dealing with it to demand the officers stationed at the elevator come down the stairs immediately to provide backup, while the rest of them had concealed themselves in a maid’s closet on the top floor. The whole thing had gone down while he and Wu were in the elevator, indicating a worrying level of planning and precision. 

Mako was treated to his own interrogation. His fellow detectives often looked at him with suspicion, and they seemed to find the fact that all three of the kidnappers had escaped to be a personal failing of his. No one told him he’d done a good job for keeping the prince safe, no one was impressed with the way he’d handled himself in what had essentially been a kill box with a vulnerable person inside it. Whatever. He didn’t care what they thought. His gaze lingered on Wu, critically noting every shift in his posture, the way he was rubbing at the fabric covering his wrists, holding his ruined jacket around himself. He looked very small and alone sitting on the enormous couch in the middle of the suite, dwarfed by a pair of detectives, smiling cheekily up at them, but the smile wasn’t right. 

He watched Wu and tried to stop watching Wu and answered snide and shitty questions until Chief Beifong strode back into the room, waving him over. Rotating shifts of officers would need to be provided to keep the hotel secure, building redundancies in to hedge against a similar tactic being used in the future. He would continue to live in the suite and provide full-time security and protection to Prince Wu beyond that of the officers that would surround them everywhere they went. If he had to report to the station or to leave the prince’s side for any reason, Wu would remain in the suite until he returned. 

The detectives filed out as he nodded his understanding at the arrangements and finally the chief planted a hand heavily on his shoulder and murmured, “Good job tonight, kid. I know you didn’t step off that elevator expecting an attack, and you took care of it like a pro.” 

Mako nodded awkwardly; now that it was happening, having someone tell him he’d done a good job was almost worse than the snide comments from his fellow detectives. At least he knew how to deal with those. He bolted the door behind the chief, tried to tell his riled mind that they were safe for the night, the locked door meant they could relax, and then stiffened in alarm as he turned around. 

The living room was empty. Wu was nowhere to be seen. Ridiculous panic ran through him, even as he reasoned the man was surely in his room, but what if he wasn’t, what if he’d slipped out and been grabbed? When he knocked at the prince’s bedroom door and got no answer the panic surged and he shoved through, finding an empty bedroom that did nothing to calm him and then, at last, hearing the sound of running water. The torn remains of Wu’s coat and silk shirt were piled by the bathroom door, and he stepped over them, needing to see, needing confirmation that he’d done his job, protected his charge. 

Wu was standing at the bathroom counter, his hands unmoving in the sink, water running over them. He was in a simple white tank top, and Mako could see the exact shift of his narrow shoulders, the hunching of his back. He stepped closer and found that the prince was holding one wrist under the faucet, rubbing a thumb over the marks left by the kidnapper’s grip, an angry red that promised to bloom into dark bruises by morning. 

“Wu?” Startled green eyes flickered up to meet his in the mirror, and Mako realized he’d never called the man by the name before. Well, too late to take it back now. “How are you doing?” 

“I’m okay.” A wan smile met his concern as the prince shut off the water and toweled his hands dry. “You checked, remember?” 

It still didn’t feel like sarcasm, but Mako couldn’t keep the irritated look off his face, following the prince back into the bedroom, watching him bundle up the ruined clothing with a comment that they would have to go to the tailor tomorrow. 

He was sort of clutching the wadded, torn fabric to his chest when Mako asked, “Seriously, though, how are-?” and then shut his mouth as Wu dropped the fabric and took a step back, seemingly surprised when he ran into the wall, and suddenly sliding down it, sitting heavily on the lushly carpeted floor. 

“Wu down.” He sang the familiar words, but they lingered sadly between them, heavy and unplayful. 

Mako waffled for a moment before he sighed and moved to sit against the wall next to him. The prince had curled up, draping his arms over his knees, and didn’t look at him, didn’t touch him. It was as disconcerting as it had been by the front door and before he could wonder what the fuck he was saying, Mako was murmuring, “Really? The one time you’re not hanging all over me is after a real-life kidnapping attempt?” 

Wu flinched, and kind of hunched in on himself, casting a weird, unreadable smile sideways at Mako. “Oh, no… no… I know how much you hate it when I do that.” 

“Yeah, I do.” The truth tumbled out easily, and he immediately felt like an enormous asshole as Wu smiled that weird smile a little wider and dropped his head down between his arms. “But…” 

Bolin’s many uncharitable comments on his people skills came to mind, as did the face Asami would have made if she’d heard what he’d just said. At least Korra would have backed him up, would probably have told the rich boy to get it together, they’d all had attempts on their lives lots of times and you didn’t seem them getting all emotional about it. Of course, Bolin had a few uncharitable comments about Kora’s people skills too, so maybe that didn’t put him in great company. 

Shit. Now he felt guilty, which seemed unfair because he’d just saved the prince’s damn life, rather spectacularly if he did say so himself. The guilty feeling didn’t go away though, and he felt his mouth setting in a resentful frown. He _had_ just saved the man’s life. Which was his job, so it wasn’t like he’d done it as a favor or out of kindness. He was paid to do it. He’d tried very hard to get reassigned so someone else would get paid to do it. 

The thought of his conversation with the chief that morning settled coldly inside him. If she’d agreed to his repeated requests, to his constant badgering to get away from the prince and get back to his job on the street, someone else would have been here protecting Wu tonight. Someone who might not have his skills, someone who definitely wouldn’t have his vast combat and fighting experiences from Team Avatar, his soldier’s instincts. Someone who might have failed, and if they had, Wu would be dead, probably killed in front of a camera and dumped bloody and broken in the street like so much garbage. 

He couldn’t banish the resentful frown from his face, but he felt his arm moving almost without his permission and he wound it around Wu’s shoulders, pulling the prince against his side. It wasn’t the man’s fault he’d lived a privileged life, that he hadn’t run the gamut of terrifying threats to his life and his loved ones the way Mako or anyone else on Team Avatar had. If Korra was here she would probably tell him to buck up, but that wasn’t even slightly fair, and he knew it even as he battled back the impulse to say it himself. 

Wu was warm against him, and he could feel confusion and surprise in his huddled posture. “What are you doing?” 

“This helps to calm you down, right? It’s okay to be scared, that was pretty fucking scary.” 

“But you hate it when I hang off you.” 

Goddamn, pestering guilt. “I don’t hate it.” It was a lie, but he could at least admit to himself that the _reason_ he hated it wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ the prince touching him. 

He tightened his grip, and felt Wu sort of melt against him, curling close, his cheek resting on Mako’s shoulder, his breath light and a little ticklish against Mako’s throat. Nope. He didn’t hate this because he didn’t want the prince touching him. And whatever he did want, it especially didn’t matter right now, when the tremoring he’d been expecting hours ago finally manifested, so he held the shivering prince and just let himself be steady.


	2. Chapter 2

True to form, the prince had them in a tailor’s shop the very next day, somewhat gleefully clearing his entire morning for the trip and telling the tailor in tragic and extravagant detail what had happened to his beloved fancy outfit, somehow without mentioning a thing about the attempted kidnapping that had actually caused the damage. It was like a master class in conversational evasive maneuvering, fascinating and a little disturbing, making him wonder if he’d committed to his estimation of the prince as completely vapid a little too easily. 

Trips to the tailor were a special kind of hell, because the proprietor would variously strip Wu down to take lingering measurements of his body, which the man insisted were absolutely vital to reaffirm before the creation of every custom garment, a process Mako couldn’t watch with anything like the professional reserve he should. That morning the prince was fairly well clothed, since they were only fitting for custom shirts and jackets, pants still on, thin tank top obscuring very little of his upper body. Mako was watching the window of the shop, because he was here to provide security, damnit, radiating as much disinterest in the process as he could manage because the tailor liked to circle him and tsk at his clothing like Mako was some kind of sartorial criminal and he didn’t want to give the man any ideas about dressing him. 

Of course, Wu had all of those ideas already, calling his name now and then while he ignored the man as best he could. He was doing such a good job that he actually jumped in surprise when Wu slid in front of him, only realizing the prince was in the middle of a sentence as those elegant hands settled on his chest to run wistfully along the buttons of his jacket and then over his shoulders, “…been saying I would, but he won’t listen, will you, big guy?” 

He’d clearly been talking to the tailor, but now those glittery green eyes were fixed right on Mako and there was no way to cover that he had no idea what Wu had ‘been saying’ that he wouldn’t listen to, so he just shrugged. 

Wu made a noise of exasperation, tracing absently back across his shoulders and down his chest. “One day you must let me get you fitted for something, anything! Your physique is _wasted_ in this uniform, honestly!” 

He tugged at the front of Mako’s jacket for emphasis, and Mako looked down on instinct, cursing himself as his eyes traced over Wu’s elegant collarbone and the modest swell of his narrow chest for what felt like a wildly inappropriate amount of time. Then he was saved in the worst way because the hands on his front came into focus, the bruises from the kidnapper’s grip glaringly dark, and he tensed involuntarily. Wu followed his gaze and kind of froze, and when Mako looked up his entire affect had fallen away; he looked startled and uncertain, staring at his own wrists, suddenly leaning much closer to the firebender, like he could maybe hide from what he was looking at by pressing himself against Mako’s chest. 

Then the tailor’s voice cut across the two of them, calling, “Your Highness?” and everything seemed to snap back into place, Wu throwing himself back toward the center of the room with his arms waving overhead, declaring himself ‘dazzled’ by the elegant shades of green silks the assistants had retrieved from the back. 

Mako kept watching the door, not counting the minutes because he refused to be that petulant, and an interminable time later Wu was sliding back in front of him, hands on his hips, head cocked to the side, asking excitedly, “Well, big guy, what do you think?!” 

His honest reaction was that the shirt and jacket looked exactly the same as the ones that had been destroyed, a dark, forest green with yellow lines at the hems, lighter green silk shirt and bunched fabric at the collar – a cravat? Was that what that was called? But as he opened his mouth to say so he wondered if they actually were the same, or if he just couldn’t tell the difference because clothing choices meant less than nothing to him. 

A perfectly distinct memory of Asami asking him what he thought in the exact same expectant tone and then the look on her face when it had taken him four tries to figure out what she was talking about – new shoes? new jacket? new hair? new… gloves? It had been gloves, it turned out – flashed through his mind, and Mako was definitely overthinking this because Wu was starting to look worried. Not pouty like he got when Mako wasn’t playing along with something, but actually anxious like there were real stakes to recreating the outfit the kidnappers had destroyed. If that’s what he’d been going for of course. 

Oh, hell. Nothing he said about the new clothes was going to sound genuine after such a long pause, so Mako acted on instinct, which had usually served him better than words anyway, snatching up a thin, yellow scarf in the same shade as the lining at the hems of the jacket from the rack to his right and draping it over the prince’s shoulders. He’d always thought his father’s scarf looked good on him. It was the only thing real decision he’d ever made about his own outfits beyond making sure he was dressed well enough for the weather. 

Wu blinked down at the scarf, then back up, and Mako mumbled, “There. It, uh… it looks good, I just think it looks better with the scarf.” Goddamnit, why was he so awkward with people he liked? Not that he liked Wu. 

A little smile curved up one side of the prince’s mouth and he stepped right into Mako’s space and for a crazy moment Mako thought he was going to… well, it didn’t matter what he’d thought, because Wu was leaning around his side to look at the mirror that was behind him. Mako turned and met his gaze in the reflection. Wu was grinning now, kind of bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“I think it does look better with the scarf.” The grin turned a little wicked and that was all the warning he got before the prince was on him, manhandling him until he was facing the mirror, plastered to his back and shoving his arms up and then hugging around his waist, bunching loose fabric above and below his grip. “I knew you had some fashion sense, I just knew it! Look at all the give in this ghastly jacket, please, _please_ let me have you fitted for something! Just one thing?!” 

Apparently, he hadn’t struck a lethal blow on the thought that the prince was startlingly fetching when he was being childish, because it was back, and laughter was caught in his throat and he met the prince’s gaze in the mirror again and froze because he knew instantly that the prince had noticed his amusement. Damnit. 

To make up for it, he shook the man off, straightening and firmly stating, “No. Not even one thing.” He smoothed down the sides of his jacket, glaring at the prince, who was giggling and twirling the ends of the scarf Mako had picked out. 

He didn’t argue though, merely sashayed back to the tailor, who was watching Mako with palpable affront, before shaking his head and then frowning at Wu critically. “Your highness, if you wish to complement the outfit with a scarf, I can provide a range of options. Something with a bit more contrast, I think, or-,” 

“No, thank you.” Wu interrupted, still fondling the ends of the yellow scarf with his distractingly perfect hands. “I like this one.” 

__________ 

Mako spent a good long while after the visit to the tailor listening to all the ways a spa day would help Wu deal with the stress of managing his royal duties, which seemed like a ridiculous coping mechanism when time with his advisors would constitute _actually_ managing his royal duties. You’d think that taking care of those duties would do more to lessen his stress, and yet the prince avoided his advisors like the plague. There wasn’t time for a spa visit that day though, not when another dinner with a selection of wealthy industrialists was on their schedule. 

He wrangled a few concessions to security into the evening’s plan, mostly consisting of securing a location change to the private home of one of the industrialists rather than another restaurant. Earth Kingdom radicals could still pay someone on the man’s staff to note down their movements, but it was more secure than a public building where any random could get hired to bus the tables. 

It was still uncomfortable, he was still dragged to sit at the dinner table, so the rich people were forced to work very hard to ignore him, and he found he had to listen to the conversation more than he wanted as their host was insisting that Wu should tour one of his new factories to ‘get a sense of the breadth of our company’s endeavors.’ 

To his great shock, Wu consulted him before agreeing. Perhaps the near kidnapping had actually wrought some kind of lasting change in the prince’s gratingly flippant attitude. Mako felt guilty again a moment later for gripping to himself, and then annoyed for feeling guilty, as he glanced down at the prince’s wrists, concealed by his sleeves. Mako had similarly dark bruises across his stomach and between his shoulder blades from the attack, but he was so used to dealing with the injuries from terrifying fights for his life that he’d barely given them any thought. Seeing the bruises on the prince had been different; they looked like they didn’t belong, they made an ache that wasn’t from anything physical rise in his chest. It was a strange, unwelcome feeling. 

“It will be too difficult to secure the building while it’s in operation. Too many people coming and going.” 

“That’s alright!” Their host cut in before Wu could say anything to this. “We can shut it down for a tour, cut the staff to only the essentials! Wouldn’t want to let these radicals keep you from doing your business like some kind of nancy boy who’s afraid of his own shadow!” 

From his vantage point at the prince’s side, Mako saw his hands clench in his lap, just a flicker of a reaction, there and gone in a flash, though his expression didn’t change. He spoke before Mako could snap back, politeness to their host be damned, that he was in charge of security and there was nothing fucking ‘nancy’ about taking your safety seriously when there were people literally trying to kill you. 

“That’s a very generous offer, Mr. Ren. I’m sure it would be wonderfully edifying to see your operation up close. Your son seems so knowledgeable about the business, perhaps he can advise us on how the scale down the operation for a tour?” 

Mr. Ren puffed up with pride and slapped a meaty hand on the shoulder of the young man seated beside him, a beefy, meticulously groomed little copy of himself in an expensive suit with black, slicked-back hair and what seemed like a permanently snide expression on his pale face. “He’ll do you one better! Lee can show you around the factory himself. You’ll make sure the prince is in the best of hands, won’t you?” 

The man’s son drawled out an affirmative like it was a done deal, his dark eyes tracing over the prince in a shockingly blatant display of interest as he did so. Neither his father nor Wu seemed to notice, but Mako felt rage burning through him at the man’s presumption. Rage about the security situation, that was. 

He was so upset about the security situation that he couldn’t help noticing Lee’s every move after that, the overt attention he was paying to Wu, his angling to lengthen the time the tour would take up, his lingering, entitled gaze and his smug, expectant little smile. Wu predictably preened at the attention, agreeing to fit the tour into his busy schedule the day after next, and Mako stewed in his anger for the rest of dinner. 

He was a little proud of himself for not snapping at their host’s son, not even when the man invited the prince up to his private study to ‘plan out the factory tour,’ and loudly complained as Mako joined them, “Really? Come now, your highness, surely we can agree my father’s home is secure enough that your bodyguard doesn’t need to be at your side every moment?” 

He didn’t actually get the chance to say anything, because Wu was immediately attached to him like a barnacle, his whole body pressed against Mako’s while he hugged the firebender’s arm and sort of swooned. “My big tough guy here is my lifeline! I could _never_ do without him at my side!” 

Mako swore he could see Lee recalculating his position, pouring brandy into two crystal glasses and leaning his hip on the overly large desk that dominated the room, holding one out for Wu without moving. “Well, we can at least leave him by the door, can’t we? So dreadful, the constant reminder of those revolutionary thugs.” 

The lure worked, Wu releasing him to join Lee by the desk, accepting the brandy and sipping it delicately. “I do hate to be an inconvenience,” he lamented, head tilted back to orate more dramatically at the ceiling, though he didn’t mimic the man’s posture, hovering instead between their host’s son and Mako’s silent, irritable presence. 

The bit of stiffness in Lee’s posture relaxed, and he downed half his drink in one go. “Of course not, your highness. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe when we tour my father’s operation.” 

“We? Oh, that’s extraordinarily generous, Lee, but I couldn’t dream of putting you out like that! I’m sure your foreman can show me the operation.” 

“Nonsense, Prince Wu. We have the capital to break new ground in the Earth Kingdom, and I want to personally ensure that you’re intimately familiar with… everything a partnership could offer.” 

He tilted his glass in an invitation to a cheers, drawing the prince a little closer to clink them together. He didn’t drink immediately after, but took the opportunity while the prince did to take another long, inescapably lewd perusal of Wu’s body. Mako watched them in disbelief. It could not have been more clear that his presence was the only thing stopping the man from making a move, and he knew an irrational impulse to demand the prince return to his side immediately. 

Lee was finishing off his brandy with an air of absentminded innocence when Wu set his glass on the desk and Mako let out an actual sigh of relief as the prince stretched and announced he was ready to return to the hotel. That this was quickly followed by him flouncing back to Mako to hug against his side again with sing-song entreaties to take him home while Lee looked on in annoyance was only a bonus. He let the prince tug him out only after insisting on a time for him to come to the factory the morning after next to inspect the security himself and direct the police presence that would be securing the premises. Lee named an early hour with a dismissive tone that said he certainly wouldn’t be there himself to deal with such mundane things, and Mako tried his best not to roll his eyes at the asshole. 

Wu waved his hand when they were both settled in the back of the vehicle and Mako asked, “I thought you said you wanted to only do relaxing things for the rest of the week?” 

“We can fit in a quick tour of their factory, Mako! I wouldn’t want Lee to feel that his generous offer to volunteer his time was not appreciated.” 

Mako hissed a little, declining to offer his own assessment of the man’s ‘generous’ offer or his thoughts on the likelihood that Lee intended some aspect of the volunteering of his time to involve bending the prince over nearby surfaces. Not that he would get the chance, because Mako would be at Wu’s side for every minute of the tour. 

To provide security. 

That was his job, after all. 

__________ 

Of course, the universe thought it would be funny to counter his estimation that nothing could be worse than watching some rich prick eye-fuck the prince for hours at a time while everyone pretended they were interested in the production of metal beaming with a trip to the spa the next day. 

At first, he’d thought the price’s proposed spa day would be annoying because he’d be subjected to incredibly detailed descriptions of the ridiculous, froo-froo treatments the prince was dropping obscene amounts of money on. Little had he known, the day was actually hell on earth, and he expended as much brain power as possible hanging onto every word of the long diatribes about spa treatments from the prince and the staff, learning absurdly stupid terms like ‘micro-needling’ and ‘prebiotic’ and ‘dermaplaning’ in a pathetic attempt to distract himself from what was in front of him. It didn’t help much, and he certainly wasn’t retaining the meaning of any of it, but puzzling over the words was at least a little distracting, which he desperately needed because the prince was wearing next to nothing the entire time. 

The staff had all been vetted, the premises thoroughly checked, so Mako didn’t go into any of the myriad rooms that were each devoted to a single specialty treatment, apparently, but he was stationed at every door, and so was subjected to the sight of the prince emerging from each, looking increasingly relaxed and contented as the day wore on. And smooth and tanned. And slick and oily. And shiny, because he was oily, with the light catching over the jut of one hipbone, slanting down the flat expanse below his bellybutton to disappear under the low-slung towel and shit, Mako was doing it again. 

He looked up and forced himself to listen to what the employee was saying, and it helped, at least a bit. They were ushering the prince down the hall while explaining that next they would be applying ‘electrolysis’ to his face. Mako’s brain reflexively scrunched up; that just sounded like literal torture. Why the fuck would anyone want their face to be electrocuted? 

Well, mentally making fun of every part of the experience was all the distraction he had to work with, and the staff kept giving him more ammunition at least. At one point, they announced they would begin an exclusive ‘radiofrequency’ treatment they’d developed on site. Then there was a ten part ‘foot ritual,’ then a ‘transformative’ candle and incense room that he glanced in and couldn’t figure out any possible purpose for. By the time they explained that the next step in the process was ‘collagen chilling’ Mako was pretty sure they were just making things up. They all sounded very confident though. They also used the word ‘bespoke’ a lot. Everything in whole damn spa was apparently bespoke. And aromatic. And therapeutic. It was all giving him a headache. 

The headache also helped to distract him, giving him something else to think about each time Wu suggested Mako should join in on the treatments. Leaving aside the fact that he was ready to firebend at anyone who tried to do ‘electrolysis’ to his face, the thought of stripping down to nothing but a small towel and sitting next to Wu while they breathed in the ‘aromatics’ or whatever, nothing to keep his mind occupied, to keep his eyes off the man, was more temptation than he could deal with. And then he wondered if Wu would be as touchy as he usually was, the two of them all slick with massage oils when he put his hands on Mako and-nope, nope, nope, that train of thought needed to immediately go in reverse. 

It was easy to point out that his ability to provide security would be unacceptably compromised if he was as relaxed as these treatments would supposedly make him; his job depended on being tense and alert. Still, Wu kept making the offer, entreating him with increasingly intent lures about how he wanted to share how wonderful the experience was, and Mako had to set his jaw and stare at the ceiling for long stretches, letting his surly silence do the talking. 

He got through it, wishing the whole time for a good old Team Avatar life-threatening battle with terrorists intent on world destruction instead of the ridiculous purgatory that had become his life, and after a full body wrap that involved not one! not two! but three! types of leaves, they were finally free to return to the hotel. At least he didn’t have to argue about restaurant security; the prince blithely informed him that one was not supposed to go out and about after a spa day, but rather stay in and let the treatments ‘do their work.’ This made him paranoid that there would be further spa bullshit somehow lurking in the hotel suite, but there was only room service. Apparently, the treatments kept ‘working’ all on their own. 

It wasn’t often they had dinner in the suite, just the two of them, and he’d been tempted to take his to his private room, but the prince never stopped talking, and somehow he wound up sitting at the same table as the man. Wu had changed into a flowy green robe before they ate, not that Mako was noticing it or the expanse of skin it revealed as the opening progressively slid apart. He was so busy not noticing it that he actually agreed to another glass of wine after dinner, sinking onto the plush couch next to the prince, Wu leaning an arm on his shoulder while they spoke. He smelled good. Not the overly complicated stink of the spa, something light and clean and vaguely floral. His hair was still a little slicked by the oils, darkened from its natural honey brown to more of a mahogany, strands of it falling over his forehead in little waves and twists that almost made it look wet. 

He was so busy not noticing things that it took him probably way longer than was polite to realize the prince had stopped talking, and when he glanced over, he found the man contemplating his wine. 

“Wu?” Damnit, calling the prince by his name instead of a title even once seemed to have formed it into a habit. 

Wu startled, like he also hadn’t noticed he’d gone silent, and glanced sideways at him a little bashfully. “Sorry. Um… I just wanted to say thank you.” 

He blinked. “For what?” 

“For what you did the other night.” He swirled the wine glass in an overly casual gesture that didn’t match his tone at all. “Saving my life.” 

“Well.” It was weird again, like it had been that night, no playful nicknames, no dramatic touches. The prince’s arm was still braced on his shoulder, but it had gone sort of tense. “It’s my job.” The words were still true, damnit, but now they felt weird and kind of thoughtless. 

“I know.” The admission sounded reluctant and almost sad. “I just… I realized I didn’t say it that night, I was too…” Mako couldn’t think of anything to say to that, but Wu shrugged, the tension leaving him abruptly. “Anyway, you were great. I’ve never seen you fight before; did you learn all that in the pro bending arena?” 

His brow furrowed; Wu had never asked him about his life, though he’d obviously been briefed on Mako’s background when he’d accepted him as a personal bodyguard. “Some of it… not really though. Pro bending isn’t much like being in a real fight. Except for the teamwork, I guess.” 

“So, if you don’t have a team then…?” 

“Then yeah, it’s not much use.” Wu was watching him earnestly, and it was clear he wanted an actual answer to his question. Mako sighed, glancing self-consciously at his own wine, wishing he could dislodge the prince from his shoulder, reluctant to actually do so for some reason. “I guess I learned it mostly from fighting alongside Korra. Uh, the avatar, that is. We’d fight as a team a lot, but you still had to be ready to go it alone sometimes.” 

“You’ve probably been in much more dangerous situations, huh?” 

More dangerous than three scruffy radicals with no bending ability? Easily, though it felt rude to say so when the experience had been so frightening for Wu. Not to mention, keeping someone who couldn’t defend themselves safe was much harder than he’d imagined once it was happening. Korra, Bolin, Asami, they were all strong, trained, confident fighters. Mako was pretty sure the attempted kidnapping was the first time he’d been in a situation like that with someone who wasn’t any of those things. 

“It was… challenging. I’m still getting used to being a bodyguard instead of a…” What had he even been on Team Avatar? Not a soldier, they weren’t an army, no matter what Kuvira called the instincts he’d honed in battle. Not a pro bender anymore. “…a regular cop,” he finished, since it was the only thing he could think of. 

“I guess I’m not used to these kinds of things either, huh?” 

It would have been painfully easy to point out how incapable Wu was of pretty much anything physical, and it was the first thing on the tip of his tongue, but Mako hesitated. The prince looked wry, was obviously trying to mask the sentiment with self-deprecating humor, which was a revelation on its own. He’d never heard the prince make even a passing attempt at self-deprecation before. But he had that odd, vulnerable tension he’d had after the kidnapping attempt, after he’d noticed Mako looking at his bruises in the tailor’s, after the asshole industrialist had suggested he was being a nancy boy. 

“Well, it’s no wonder, since you spend all your time in leaf wraps and getting radioactive face electrics.” 

He instantly regretted the attempt at lightening the tone, immediately self-critical of his stab at humor, but Wu kind of made up for it by laughing, carefully setting his wine glass down so he could wave a hand at Mako in that ‘oh, you poor peasant’ way that he had. “Radiofrequency electrolysis, Mako! You really shouldn’t knock it until you’ve tried it! _When_ will you let me get you your own spa treatment package?!” 

“If you think I’m letting them electrocute my face, you are completely crazy.” 

Wu was giggling now, studying Mako’s face with an uncomfortable familiarity. “Well, you hardly need it, anyway.” Just as he was wondering if he should take that as a compliment – who knew what the face electrocution was actually for? – the prince added, “But a simple mud wrap, really, would you deny me such a thing?!” 

“Yes, I would." 

He had to set his own glass down for safety as Wu fastened both hands on his shoulder, shaking him and orienting even more toward Mako as he whined, “But why?!” 

“It’s pointless.” He was certain he had facts on his side here, if nothing else. 

Wu cocked his head and, shit, the man was way too close to him, cuddled right up against his side, his legs tucked up on the couch while Mako sat stiffly, wondering how to get away from the encroaching hold the prince had him in. All this talk about his fighting prowess, and he couldn’t escape one small, clingy man. 

“Well, first of all, it feels good, things that feel good aren’t pointless!” Mako’s brain offered up a few suggestions of other things that felt good, and he tensed his muscles up even more. _No, no, no_ to that train of thought. “But more importantly, it’s good for you! It makes your skin so soft and healthy!” 

“Sure.” Too much of his brain power was being diverted into getting rid of the running list of things that felt good, so one-word answers were going to have to do. 

Apparently, that one word sounded more like a challenge than agreement, because Wu suddenly grabbed his hand and tugged it close, settling Mako’s palm over his shoulder, bared by the goddamn loose robe that was also showing quite a bit of chest, damnit, and said, “ _See?!_ ” like this was the most normal way to demonstrate what skin felt like in the world. 

Mako was really going to need his brain to disentangle from the ‘feels good’ thought loop and come help out, because his body was certainly not doing much to assist him. Wu’s shoulder was warm and solid and, yeah, his skin was smooth and soft, exactly as advertised. Palming over it drew even more of his attention to how much smaller Wu was than him, narrow shoulders around a prominent collarbone, not overly skinny, but with very little muscle to fill in his slim frame. 

He drew his thumb absently along the skin in question, over the top of Wu’s chest, and the prince shivered and let out a quiet breath, like he hadn’t been expecting that, and holy shit, Mako’s body was doing stuff now, but it was really, really not helpful stuff. At long last, his mind kicked back in, just as he dragged his gaze from his hand up to meet the prince’s and found the man looking at him with confusion and something his mind insisted was longing and his body joined that insistence in a chorus of bad impulses, and he regained just enough of his faculties to make himself stand up, mumbling something about his early morning to go over security for the factory tour, and then he fled to his private room. 

None too soon it turned out, because by the time he had the door shut behind him, his cock was already fully hard, the loop of ‘feels good’ activities refusing to leave his mind, all now dominated by the new knowledge of what Wu’s skin felt like, what part of his body felt like. He’d never touched Wu before the kidnapping attempt, despite the bonkers amount the prince touched him. And now he knew what that smaller body felt like when he was holding it against him, knew what that gorgeous, tanned skin felt like under his fingers. Fuck, he was going to be ashamed of himself after this, was pretty sure this was violating some core tenant of bodyguarding responsibilities, but at the moment, he just needed relief. 

He had enough functioning brainpower left to think to go to the bathroom, shutting that door behind him, another layer between them for privacy, and then his pants were open and his aching cock was in his hand, and his eyes were closed, head leaned back against the door. That hadn’t been longing on Wu’s face. He was sure it had just been him seeing what he wanted. 

A groan caught in his throat as he started stroking himself quickly, knowing it hadn’t been longing while he contemplated what might have happened if it had been. If he had kissed the prince, took those pretty lips that had parted in surprise, coaxed Wu into opening up for him. He licked his own lips, pretending he could taste the prince, wanting to know how he would react, wondering if he would tremble and hold on to Mako, how he would sound. He’d never been interested in the idea of submission in bed with the women he’d dated, but he was interested in it with Wu, wanted that feeling of being strong and in charge that he sometimes got when Wu hung off him, wanted it in spades. 

Wanted to pin the prince down, feel him underneath Mako, ached for those maddeningly graceful hands on his skin, on his cock. He worked himself faster, his whole body warming with arousal, wondering how Wu would touch him. Fast, and frantic, squeezing and stroking hard? Would he want to tease, with light touches, playing with the sensitive head, drawing Mako’s pleasure out? 

Fuck, he wanted to do that to Wu. Wanted to tease him, play with him, have him hard in Mako’s hand, begging for Mako’s touch, for Mako to make him come. God, he wanted to get the prince on his back, legs spread around him, and take his time, stroke him and manhandle him, get him worked up until he was flushed and wanton and panting for it, for more, harder, holding on to him and writhing beneath him, and crying out his name- 

He gasped as he came, eyes still closed, head still leaned back on the door, making a warm, sticky mess in his own hand. For a few long seconds he didn’t move. Wanting Wu be damned, he’d never let himself think about the prince while getting himself off before. It was too close to the things he really craved, too likely to make those things occupy his mind in the daytime, when they needed to be as far from his thoughts as possible. 

A flash of the fantasy of having the prince on his back went back through him, his tempting mouth dropped open, Mako’s name on his lips. His spent cock twitched in his hand and he smothered a loud curse. What the fuck was he thinking?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this second chapter of my Wuko story, dear reader! If you have a moment to leave one, comments truly make whole damn my day! I hope everyone is staying safe and finding things that cheer them up in these troubled times


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: this chapter includes a homophobic slur, and the internalized homophobia gets cranked up a lot.

His still ached the next day, the bruises from the kidnapping attempt protesting his morning run, even earlier than usual because he had to get to the rich asshole’s stupid factory. It seemed that everything hurt as he buttoned himself into his uniform, and he grumbled to himself the entire ride. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon; he had to drive all the way out of the city to reach the factory grounds, and he needed time to do his own inspection and still be back at a reasonable hour to get the prince up. 

He’d phoned it in to the chief before the spa day hijacked his brain, so there were officers on site when he arrived. He was also very surprised to find Lee there, looking neat and unbothered by the early hour, a dark, understated suit stretching over his broad shoulders, the seemingly permanent smirk curling over his face. He took absolutely no interest in the security arrangements, clearly not listening even though he’d insisted on following Mako around as he assigned officers to key locations throughout the building. 

When asked any questions, Lee waved him off to the factory foreman, who explained the reduced staff locations and which machines would be kept in operation. The rich bastard only seemed interested in determining when Wu would be arriving, speaking to Mako while looking over his shoulder like he wasn’t even there. It was intensely grating. 

He had to rouse Wu when he returned to the hotel, which took several tries because it wasn’t nearly so early anymore, but it was still well before the prince liked to be awake. Wu swooned and complained, his usual dramatic self, doing such a good job of making a thing out of it that it wasn’t until they were in the car together that Mako realized the man hadn’t looked him in the eye even once that morning. The prince was leaned against the window, watching the landscape whip by, primly seated in his usual manner, but just a little bit off. 

It wasn’t helping Mako’s mood; he was already very tense. Security seemed fine at the factory, and as Wu had pointed out, the fact that Mr. Ren’s son was conducting the tour pretty much guaranteed the industrialist would be taking the security of the premises very seriously, so at least there was some utility to having the bastard on site. But honestly, Mako could have done without it, because every time he remembered the way Lee had looked Wu over, lewd and entitled, like Wu wasn’t even really a person but just a thing he could use, it made something hot burn aggressively in his chest. 

And now Wu was acting odd, and he was thinking about jerking himself off to thoughts of the man and agonizing over whether the way he’d touched his shoulder had freaked the prince out and then getting extremely annoyed because the man had put Mako’s hand there _himself_ so what did he expect and then agonizing again that he probably hadn’t expected his bodyguard to start stroking his skin like some kind of creep, and this went on and on in a completely unproductive loop until they arrived. He hadn’t realized how much he’d gotten used to Wu’s constant chatter until it wasn’t there, and realizing he missed it was distinctly uncomfortable. 

Then Lee greeted them at the massive arched entryway to the factory grounds and put a hand on Wu’s shoulder, drawling, “Your highness, thank you so much for joining me this morning! I can’t wait to show you our operations, I’ve made sure we’ll have the opportunity for some _hands-on_ experience today,” and Mako was seething again. 

The only saving grace was that the prince’s affable, but totally oblivious nature made it impossible for Lee to really get away with anything. Wu breezed through obvious innuendos, completely missed attempts at flirtation, and danced so enthusiastically from one enormous machine to the next that Lee couldn’t keep his hands on him for more than a moment. Mako had never imagined he’d be grateful for the prince’s self-absorbed attitude, but somehow it was fending off every one of the rich bastard’s attempts without even engaging with them. 

It was also the first time he’d been enthusiastic about Wu using him as a prop. The prince tugged him around as he always did, insisting Mako had to learn about the factory too, which he was decidedly not doing, occupied as he was with cataloging every little movement from Lee and continuously scanning the area for threats, but somehow it wound up constantly putting him directly between the prince and the rich bastard, and he could feel Lee hating him for existing every time it happened. It was exceedingly difficult not to shoot smug looks at the fucker, but he restrained himself. He was a professional, after all. 

That’s why he could scan every room, maintain perfect situational awareness, keep track of the location of every officer and the layout of every entrance and exit, while still being acutely aware of the warmth and weight of the prince every time Wu touched him. Because he was a professional. Yeah. 

The tour wasn’t fun, no matter how funny watching Lee get repeatedly stymied was, but at least it moved right along. They made it through the factory floor, perused several models of struts, beaming and general support fixtures, and at last they were in the machine shop, the heart of the operation, the final stop before they could leave. This particular room was his least favorite, not because examining the operations of the internal mechanisms was incredibly boring, which it was, but because it was a dark, twisty, claustrophobic nightmare of pipes and beams and hulking furnaces, with plenty of places someone could hide, and only one way in or out. 

Despite the array of officers on site, despite the fact that he’d cleared this room himself, and then inspected it again while Lee and Wu hovered in the doorway and found nothing but complex machines and two engineers who looked understandably nervous about having to explain their jobs to the owner’s son and the heir to the Earth Kingdom, he felt unsettled as they proceeded. Something was wrong, his instincts insisted, but he’d checked, and nothing was out of place. 

He crossed his arms, watching the two engineers cut each other off as they gestured at first one thing, then another, explaining what the dials meant, what the levers were for, how very ‘exclusive’ and ‘revolutionary’ the proprietary technology on site was, while Lee’s beefy bulk hovered over Wu’s shoulder, nodding along like he was listening. Nodding, but now that he looked, the man’s eyeline wasn’t over the prince’s shoulder, but lower, and shit, that burning feeling was back in his chest. The rich bastard was openly staring at Wu’s ass while the prince was turned away from him. Something awfully like a growl rumbled in his throat and he was wondering if he could get away with throwing a nice, terrifying arc of fire between them and then pretending he thought he’d seen an assassin when he heard a shriek of fear, echoing out from the factory floor, followed by a crash of glass on metal. 

He cursed, his body snapping into fighting mode, the aches from his bruises disappearing into the back of his mind, sweeping his gaze over the room, taking in the still-secured area and Wu’s sudden, rigid fear, and then snapping, “Stay here!” 

There was only one way in or out, which would have been a huge problem if someone had been waiting in there to attack them, with allies outside, but as long as the room was secure, it was the safest option while he cleared the threat. 

He sprinted down the hallway, squinting against the harsh sunlight as his eyes tried to adjust from the dimness of the machine shop, set up against the corner, took in a breath, then lunged out to the factory floor, bending a line of fire in front of him, ready to fight. A few feet away, one of the officers was crouched by an assembly line, peering over the machinery toward the open area. 

“What’s the situation?” 

The man sent him a frustratingly blank look. “Not sure. Just heard someone yell, then something crashed. It’s right in a blind spot.” 

Before he could tell the officer off for not immediately investigating, the sound of running footsteps pounded through the factory, and he caught sight of someone in coveralls fleeing between the workstations. He ordered the officer to secure the hallway and gave chase, blood pumping, sensing sharpening. No one was fucking touching his charge again. 

A swipe of fire sent his quarry sprawling forward, and Mako had him pinned in seconds, digging his knee harshly into the man’s back, twisting his arms behind him until he was secured in a hold. He leaned down, putting more of his weight into his knee, and hissed, “Where are the others?” 

One wide, frightened eye looked up at him from where the man’s face was mashed against the floor. “The-the others?” 

Hold secured with one hand, he shoved his fist forward, igniting a concentrated little burst of fire out of one end, rippling intense heat over the two of them and making sweat spring up on the would-be-assassin’s face. “The rest of your group. Don’t play with me, this whole place is locked down, none of you are going to escape. It’ll be easier on you if you just tell me where they are.” 

The man had gone completely rigid beneath him, fixing a confused and terrified gaze on the makeshift blowtorch coming out of his fist and he was babbling now, “No, no, there aren’t any others, I didn’t mean anything by it, he told me to do it, he just said I had to run and then say I didn’t know what you were talking about, oh god, please don’t hurt me, I just work here, I was just doing what I was told…” 

The threat had worked better than he’d ever seen it on any hardened criminal, and Mako was quickly getting the feeling he’d missed a step somewhere. He let the fire go out and cuffed the suspect, who was gulping in air and shaking like a leaf, tugging him up and only letting go when another officer arrived to grab him. 

“What are you talking about? There’s no way they sent one guy in here to kill the prince, so where are the others?” With the removal of the immediate threat, the man had sagged, the officer the only thing holding him up now. Mako snapped his fingers. “You only did what who told you?” 

Now he looked terrified again, but not of Mako, his gaze darting around them wildly. “Nothing. Nothing, no one told me to do anything. One of the machines… uh… I didn’t do the right checks, almost got hurt… get the tools…” 

“Who said you had to run?” 

“No one. No one said anything, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t do the right checks. I almost got hurt. I was just running to get the tools to fix it, that’s all…” 

He was staring at Mako with an expression that said even he didn’t believe what he was saying, and he was tempted to light up another blowtorch, see if it would produce results again, when something else occurred to him. 

“Get him to the station, I want to know exactly what just happened.” 

He saw the officer salute out of the corner of his eye, already turning back toward the machine shop, walking faster and faster as he went until he was at a run again, skidding to a halt by the officer he’d left to secure the hallway. 

“Has anyone tried to get past you?” 

“Uh, not in. Two guys in coveralls did come out though. That’s fine, right? I told them the factory wasn’t secured yet, but they didn’t seem to care.” 

He felt cold suddenly. He’d promised himself Lee wouldn’t get one second alone with the prince, but surely even the rich bastard wouldn’t be trying to get some if he thought they were under attack by radicals? Then again, why would he send his engineers out to where the danger was if he really thought they were under attack? Mako was down the hallway in a flash, stepping into the machine shop and feeling a bolt of panic as he saw no one. He blinked, trying to peer through the low light and the snarl of pipes and support struts, his eyes aching, and at last heard voices, murmuring quietly from off to the left, becoming more distinct as he stepped through the machinery trying to find the source. 

“…said, your highness, we’re perfectly safe here, and I’m certain your bodyguard will be occupied for some time. Surely, we can find a more enjoyable way to spend it than worrying about radicals. We never finished discussing the details of the partnership we could forge together.” 

There, in the far corner, tucked against a few feet of exposed concrete was Wu, pressed back against the wall, Lee’s arms planted on either side of him, boxing him in. It could have been a shared moment of intimacy, but everything about the prince’s body language was wrong, stiff and flinching away, shrinking in on himself. Lee had leaned close to speak into his ear, crowding the prince with his bulk, corralling him easily. 

“Let’s not be coy, your highness.” 

“Stop.” Wu’s voice tremored, the command robbed of any power. 

“Please. We both know how much you’d like it if I ordered you to-,” 

“He said _stop_.” 

His words came out as a near snarl and Lee straightened, but didn’t get the chance to move away because Mako already had a fistful of his collar. The rich bastard was significantly larger than he was, but off balance and taken by surprise, and Mako manhandled him easily, sending him stumbling a few feet to catch himself on the broad, metal side of one of the machines in the small space. Mako posted himself in front of the prince, arms up half in offense half in defense, wondering what kind of force he was authorized to use. Lee hadn’t actually been touching Wu. Could he firebend at the man for saying shitty things? 

“Wu?” 

“I’m fine.” 

The words sounded really wrong, and he glanced over his shoulder to find Wu not looking at either of them, but at the floor, his head turned away, kind of hunched against the concrete. He looked… ashamed of himself, like he’d done something wrong. In front of him, Lee was straightening the lapels of his expensive suit, looking past Mako with a nasty expression of denigrating triumph, like he still held the upper hand here and fuck, Mako really wanted to bend at him. 

The prince said he was fine. Mako hadn’t witnessed any crime taking place. He didn’t have any authority to use force on Lee, who had already retreated into bored rich boy mode. 

“I take it the all-clear has been declared? Rather faster than I was expecting.” 

Son of a bitch. Lee wasn’t even trying to pretend… If the man he’d caught hadn’t said something strange, hadn’t given him a reason to suspect something else was going on, he would still be out there. No way would he have passed up the opportunity to question one of the Earth Kingdom radicals himself, not when he’d caught the man in the act. Wu’s security was his personal responsibility and there could have been others anywhere on the premises. 

“Tour’s over. The prince is returning to his hotel until we get to the bottom of what just happened.” 

__________ 

Mako had left him in the hotel room, supposedly the most secure place in the world for Wu, and gone to the precinct to oversee the interrogation of the man who’d caused the disturbance at the factory. As much as he hated to be alone, Wu was grateful to see him leave. That had been more of a disaster than he’d ever predicted, even with how badly he’d screwed up the previous night. Which he felt especially stupid for because he really had been just trying to make a point about the spa treatments, but he should have known how he’d react to Mako’s hands on his skin. 

He’d certainly spent enough time imagining how he’d react to the firebender’s hands on him when he was alone, so he couldn’t pretend the rush of arousal was anything but predictable. And humiliating, with Mako practically leaping off the couch to get away from him. It was ironic, he supposed, that after having freaked Mako out that he might be some kind of deviant, the very next day the firebender would find him pinned under a man who knew exactly what kind of things he liked and apparently had no compunction using that information to try to get Wu on his knees. 

Not that that was anything new. But he hadn’t wanted Mako to see him like that. 

It wasn’t like he could muster furious denials when everything about him gave him away. And it wouldn’t have helped; Lee traveled in enough of the same circles as Wu had back when he’d been free to go where he wished without any threats to his life or any royal responsibilities. He knew, he knew what Wu was, and he’d reacted the way certain men always did. Lee had a bad reputation of his own, but it was the kind of reputation a man like him took pride in, that maybe he took men to bed, but he never let them forget who was in charge. He liked inflicting pain, and the rumor was that he liked it best with people who didn’t have the reciprocal desire to be hurt. 

Wu had never worried about being able to avoid his attention before, because he hadn’t had anything Lee wanted, but like everything else in his life, it looked like his new status as singular royal heir had taken even that tenuous safety away. Now, Wu held the potential for big, lucrative contracts, and Lee obviously thought he could get the upper hand in negotiations by cowing him one on one. He probably wouldn’t mind getting his dick serviced as part of the deal, so it was likely all upside from his perspective. Wu flinched at his reflection in the bathroom. How nice for him. 

He returned to the common area of the suite, absently fondling one end of the scarf Mako had picked out for him, stared around himself and immediately missed him. Which, ugh, just made him feel worse. It wasn’t like the firebender didn’t already know embarrassing things about his proclivities; Wu didn’t believe for one second that the entire police force hadn’t gossiped endlessly about the position he’d been in when the police had come banging at his door months ago, frantic to secure the last remaining member of the Earth Kingdom royal family. 

He’d gotten very good at shrugging off the withering distain of being assumed to enjoy some level of submission to a brawny man, had learned long ago to bury any real reaction beneath an impenetrable layer of oblivion and overtly effete affectations that made the offended parties rush to get away from him rather than stay and deliver their judgement. But all of that had been stripped away as he stood among a swarm of officers poking into every corner of his private space, clutching a robe around himself while a pair of detectives choked back what they obviously wanted to say in favor of blandly announcing that his entire family had been slaughtered. 

It had really not helped that the company he’d been entertaining had been scrambling to make sure the assembled law enforcement understood who had been doing the receiving and the servicing among the two of them. Once he’d satisfied his manhood at Wu’s expense, Roland had balked at the suggestion by the slightly nicer detective that he might want to accompany Wu to the station like the entire horrible situation was some ruse Wu had cooked up to trick him into accidentally committing to a long-term relationship. As if he’d wanted anything more from the man than a good fuck in the first place. 

Honestly, being taken in alone to sit for hours in a dank, uncomfortable windowless room, wondering what each officer or detective he spoke to had been told about what he’d been doing when he’d been picked up because even that was better than thinking about his family, he could have used a friend. Or at least someone friendly. He hadn’t ever intended for that to be part of his sparse relationship with Roland, but it hurt to have it shoved so harshly in his face. And to realize as he stared down at the open restraining bolts in the table because it was easier than looking at the photos and hastily scrawled reports they’d dumped in front of him detailing what exactly had been done to each of his family members, that it wasn’t just Roland. He’d been alone, and scared, and he’d wanted someone with him, and he’d realized he didn’t have a single person he could call. 

And now he’d probably ruined any chance Mako would want to be friends with him. They weren’t friends, as the firebender never tired of reminding him, but Wu had started to think that maybe his bodyguard liked him at least a little. And maybe he hadn’t been able to completely avoid the idiocy of developing a crush on a resolutely heterosexual man, but he’d been good about keeping it to himself until now. If Mako was at least attracted to men then he’d have an easy way to soothe his riled masculinity, knew exactly how to reassure a man that he was still in charge, and he didn’t mind if it was at his expense if it would just repair the distance he’d created between them. 

He didn’t want to lose this tenuous connection, the easy rapport they shared, because as stiff as Mako was under his attention, he knew the firebender had no compunction about shaking him off if he didn’t want Wu fawning over him. It helped, actually, that Mako was so habitually blunt, because he could trust that if the man had a real problem with something Wu did, he would say so. Touching his bodyguard, hiding behind him or hanging off him, it made Wu feel safe. Mako beside him everywhere they went, it was grounding, someone who wasn’t there only because they wanted something from him, his money or his body or his sexual compliance. Even though Mako had been ordered to be there. Even though he was paid to be there. 

Lee couldn’t have been more obvious with what he was after, but Wu’s advisors had made it clear that just about the only thing he could do for his kingdom while Kuvira was stabilizing the security situation was drum up contracts and business contacts that could boost their economy once they were ready to call mission accomplished on retaking their kingdom. The contract with Ren Industries was their top priority on that front. And while Lee’s reputation was bad enough that even friendless as he’d been in his previous life in Republic City, Wu had been warned by more than one slim, pretty boy to avoid getting on the bastard’s radar, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t handled men like him before. 

Even if he’d been separated from Mako, Wu had been confident in his breezy affect and well-crafted oblivion. It had rarely failed him in the past and had worked like a dream for the rest of the tour. But the moment he heard the commotion, all his muscles had locked, all the safety he wrapped his mind in, his social abilities and the reassurance of Mako’s fighting strength and meticulous situational awareness, it all drained away, and all he could think about was the stack of bloody photographs spilling out of his shaking hands, scattering out before him on the interrogation room floor and rough hands on him and _time to join the rest of your family, your highness_. 

And then he’d been alone in a room with a dangerous person, on the back foot, trying to control his breathing, struggling to speak and remembering how bad a man could get once you stopped pretending things weren’t what they were, once you let on that you knew they were trying to hurt you. 

_He said stop_. Even the palpable disgust in Mako’s tone, finding them like that, Lee’s intent obvious, Wu knowing what the firebender would think of him now, he’d still almost cried out in relief at the sound of the man’s voice. He just wanted to feel safe. 

Huddled alone on the couch, rubbing over the fading bruises on his wrists, feeling the ghost of Lee’s breath against his ear, trapping him literally and metaphorically, the heat of his broad body pressing close, the threat of the knowledge he possessed, the certainty that Wu would be hurt by the airing of his private preferences now that he had a reputation to protect… he didn’t feel safe. 

He’d been trying so hard not to think about the threats, to banish the memories of the police briefings and the graphically detailed reports his advisors insisted on giving him whenever he made the mistake of going to see them. The men a few nights ago had been trying to kidnap him, but they were planning to kill him. They were planning to kill him, and he even knew how, had seen the pictures and read the articles, his clothing torn away to symbolically strip him of any signifiers of wealth, putting him on his knees to take any signifiers of power, having him on display while they read from the manifesto they’d cobbled together in the days after his great aunt had been killed on the throne, then cutting his throat, bleeding him out the way the manifesto railed that his family had bled their citizens dry. 

They’d take pictures. Maybe they’d even shoot a mover of the execution. Having everyone see what was done to him was the point; his death wasn’t simply a death, it was a message about royalty and equality. What was the phrase his advisors kept using? _Propaganda of the deed_. 

Wu wrapped his arms around his knees, curling into a ball. He didn’t want to be a message. His death was just death to him, the ending of his life, and maybe it wasn’t much of a life, if everyone looked down on him and what he was, but it was still his. 

__________ 

“What do you mean, we have to cut him loose?” 

The officer who’d delivered the news blinked at him, taken aback. He was relatively new to the precinct, so he probably didn’t totally hate Mako yet, though his expression said he was on his way to getting there. Great. The officer shrugged and gestured through the one-way glass. On the other side, the factory worker he’d apprehended was hunched over the interrogation table, not saying a word. A lawyer from Ren Industries stood over him, arms crossed, looking bored and important and already done with the whole affair. 

“Chief’s orders. Lawyer says he didn’t break any laws by running through his own workplace, you know.” 

What was this guy’s name? Martin? Miller? “Look, Officer Miller-,” 

“It’s Mackenzie.” 

Damnit. All day every day with the prince, he barely came by the precinct anymore, and now he couldn’t keep any of the officers straight. “Officer Mackenzie, everything he said to me is in the statement I provided. There’s reasonable suspicion to hold him and at least try to compel him to talk.” 

“Give it up, Mako.” He stiffened as Detective Yamada leaned around the doorframe. “You hauled in some assembly line guy who has no idea what any of us are talking about.” 

“Yes, he does!” He pointed toward the one-way glass, where the lawyer was still completely ignoring his client. “And you can’t tell me some ‘assembly line guy’ can afford that kind of representation, that’s one of Ren Industries top attorneys.” 

The purposefully blank look Yamada gave him made Mako’s jaw clench. “Ren looks after his employees, so what?” 

“You haven’t met the owner or his son, but I guarantee you, they don’t give a shit about their employees. Let alone care enough to foot the bill for someone of this caliber.” The Ren Industries lawyer had shown up, flashy and expensive and droll, and shut down their questions in half a second with enough practiced mastery to make Mako’s head spin. This was the kind of representation only the ultrawealthy could afford, and in Mako’s experience, they weren’t big on sharing that kind of privilege with their low-level employees. 

“You made a mistake, just admit it.” Yamada stepped back into the squad room, flashing him a taunting smirk. “Jumping at shadows, grabbing some random guy off the factory floor…” 

Mako followed him, trying hard to keep his temper in check. “There was a kidnapping attempt on my charge just a few damn days ago. This isn’t some figurative threat anymore.” 

“Sure, sure. Look, go back to hotel, read his highness a bedtime story, he’ll calm down. Let us do the investigating here.” 

“What are you planning to investigate if you’re just cutting that guy loose? I’m telling you, this wasn’t a coincidence, he was told to make a scene.” 

Tossing a file carelessly at Officer Mackenzie, Yamada rolled his eyes. “Told to make a scene? And in this little conspiracy of yours do you have a suggestion as to who would have told him to do that? Or why?” 

That was tough, if only because Mako had sent himself up shit creek in the past by accusing extremely wealthy people of wrongdoing without hard proof. But he was damned if the lesson he was going to learn from that was to keep his mouth shut when he knew he was right. “Lee Ren was with me when I set all the security up, he knew where every officer was located. And this guy just happened to make a commotion in a blind spot.” 

“The owner’s son? Now you think he’s some kind of Earth Kingdom radical?” 

“No,” he ground out, wondering how much he should say about what he’d walked in on in the machine shop. Wu had seemed less than thrilled to have a witness to man’s behavior. “He just… he seemed pretty intent on getting the prince alone…” 

Face scrunching uncomfortably, Officer Mackenzie let out an ugly chuckle. “Maybe he just figured his highness would be up for a little fun.” 

Mako’s eyes narrowed. “Why would he figure that?” 

“You know…” Mackenzie elbowed him conspiratorially, brow furrowing when Mako just kept glaring at him. “He and Lee Ren run in the same circles. If he made a habit of doing, uh, what he was doing when we picked him up to put him in protective custody, the rest of the high society set had to know what he was like.” 

“What was he doing when he was picked up?” 

Before Mackenzie could open his mouth again, Yamada was shoving another file into his arms, snapping at him to get back to work, and then the chief was yelling Mako’s name, leaving him puzzled as he trailed into her office. His mood nosedived further at the look on her face. 

“Chief, you can’t mean to take that lawyer seriously. The suspect is clearly lying!” 

“I’d love the see the evidence you must have of that, since you’re so sure.” 

“I recorded everything he said to me in my report.” 

“A few excited utterances while you had him pinned on the floor, including no admission of anything criminal. People say strange things when they’re scared. And I’m not hearing a motive for some random Ren Industries employee to be targeting the royal family.” 

“Lee Ren-,” 

“Is the son of one of Republic City’s wealthiest industrialists, and a major donor to the president’s election campaign and the police commission. This is not someone you want to set yourself against, Mako.” 

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and he knew she was thinking about what had happened with Varrick. Which, goddamnit, _he’d been right about_. It had also been a huge disaster for him before Varrick had given himself away, since no one had believed him, and the rich fucker had been perfectly comfortable planting evidence to get Mako out of the way. 

“Chief-,” 

“Look. Bring me evidence, solid evidence, of criminal activity, and I will back you up, Mako. You know that I will. But I don’t want to hear a single accusation toward Lee Ren or Ren Industries until then.” 

He made it all the way back to his desk without yelling at anyone and paused there to try to collect himself. He wasn’t even sure what he was mad about specifically. The factory employee hadn’t actually committed a crime. Lee hadn’t done anything criminal as far as he could tell; he’d clearly scared the prince, but it wasn’t as though Mako could arrest him for that. 

Remembering Officer Mackenzie’s comment, he looked up, scanning around, but the man was no longer in the squad room. Yamada was studiously ignoring him in favor of chewing on a toothpick and staring at the ceiling, but he wouldn’t have asked the detective to explain the officer’s comments anyway. It wasn’t the first time Mako had been left out of the departmental gossip chain, and it was never not on purpose. That one was probably on him though; more than once, he’d told off a fellow officer or detective for spreading salacious gossip about a suspect or a victim. 

Whatever the gossip was, he was having a hard time seeing how it would make Lee think the prince would be up for ‘a little fun’ of the kind he’d clearly wanted. Mako hadn’t spent that much time in the Earth Kingdom, but he’d been granted more than just an impersonal understanding of the effect of the laws against homosexual behavior under the royal family’s rule. It wasn’t even like he’d been looking to find a partner; he’d simply been helping his cousin get what food they could for his enormous extended family, and he’d glanced up and found a very pretty young man with eyes so green he could see them from across the street casually looking him up and down, a tentative interest directed his way from behind a sweep of glossy black hair. 

It had been enough to bring him to a halt, feeling like the interest meant he was allowed to appreciate the view, which had garnered him a small, come hither smile, like he’d passed some sort of test. 

Just as he was regretting that they didn’t have time for hook ups while they were trying to get back to the upper ring, his cousin had come up behind him and yelled over his shoulder, “What do you think you’re looking at, faggot?” 

For all his living on the street and running with gangs in his youth, Mako had never actually heard anyone use that word in person before, and it brought him up short. He still felt a little twist of shame that he hadn’t tried to say anything to his cousin. The pretty boy had disappeared right down an alley and his cousin had apologized for the boy looking at Mako the whole way home, loudly reassuring him that that kind of thing wasn’t allowed in Ba Sing Se, like he had to defend the entire city’s honor, and Mako had just nodded numbly. 

Thank god Bolin hadn’t been with them; he loved his brother, but he knew Bolin would have told their cousin off, trying to defend Mako in his way, and he’d decided right then and there that maybe his extended family didn’t need to know that he was bisexual. It wasn’t as though he thought he’d be seeing them again any time soon. Of course, now they were all evacuated from Ba Sing Se and living with Asami, and he still hadn’t said anything about it, so the joke had clearly been on him there. 

No matter how flamboyant the prince might seem, it was his family that had made those laws, and the endless coterie of women Wu went out of his way to hit on sent a pretty clear message as far as Mako was concerned. Not to mention, Lee didn’t seem like the kind of person who cared much about whether his sexual targets were enthusiastic or even consented, so who knew if he’d even thought about whether the prince would want a man coming onto him or not? 

The memory of the rich bastard backing Wu up against a wall like that, the aggression in his posture, the fear in the prince’s, it still made him want to hit things, his hands balling into fists at his desk. Maybe Lee hadn’t committed a crime, per se, but he’d been doing something to the prince that Wu clearly didn’t want, which crossed the line right into behavior Mako was comfortable using force against, even if the law wasn’t. 

Ah, fuck. No matter how angry it made him, what had happened wasn’t about him or his feelings. Wu was probably totally freaked out, and he’d left the prince alone the entire rest of the day. If they were really letting the suspect go with no further questions, then there was nothing left to do here except be mad that no one was taking his suspicions seriously, and he could do that from anywhere. Because he was a professional. 

The officers stationed in the hotel lobby greeted him with the usual unfriendly nods, and Mako tried not to show his nerves as he got into the elevator. Ever since the kidnapping attempt, his heartrate jacked up as soon as the sliding doors closed and kept rising until he successfully stepped off at the top floor without anyone punching him in the stomach. The ache of the bruises left by the brass knuckles throbbed as his abdomen tightened, but the doors opened to reveal nothing but a pair of bored officers, right where they should be, and an empty, secured hallway. 

The stress response was ridiculous anyway; there was no way their attackers would try the same approach twice. The elevator ride was probably the safest part of the hotel outside of their suite now. Accumulated room service dishes from lunch and dinner outside the door reminded him that he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and the ache in his stomach took on a different tenor. Shit, it was probably too late to order anything else. 

Resigned to a deeply uncomfortable night, Mako let himself in and blinked. Wu was reading. That in and of itself was something he’d never seen before, but the prince was doing so wearing only that deep green silk robe, laying on his stomach on the couch, his back to the door, so the first thing he saw was Wu’s left shoulder, on display because the collar had fallen open again and was pooled down by his elbow, and the dip of the prince’s lower back and the swell of his ass, outlined with little left to the imagination by the thin, almost shimmery fabric. 

Wu peered at him over the exposed shoulder, pasting a broad smile over his face and immediately rocking into a seated position. “At last! It’s been terrible without my big strong guy around, where have you been?!” 

He sighed, trying not to make a face, even though he’d told the prince exactly where he was going. “The station. Questioning the suspect.” 

“Right.” For a moment, it seemed like the prince had sincerely forgotten, and Mako could almost see him consciously choosing to sidestep asking any questions about how that had gone. “Well, I think we need a nice, relaxing day tomorrow, there’s been too much stress this week!” 

Mako felt a smile quirking over half his mouth, despite his hunger and annoyance. “You already spent an entire day at the spa, what more can we do in the way of relaxing?” 

Just as he realized with horror that the prince might have meant even more time at a spa, Wu waved his hand breezily. “Well since you won’t let me buy you any treatments, I can’t see how that’d help us both. I think we should let you decide what we do tomorrow!” 

The robe was really barely holding it together, showing off a rather large amount of his chest. On the side where the collar had slipped over his shoulder, he could also see a dark nipple partially visible behind the hem… wait, what? Wu wanted him to decide? At the moment, all he could think about was getting his mouth on the prince’s chest, getting his hands on all that exposed skin… could he suggest that was what he wanted to do? 

“Uh…” Mako stared at him, wondering if he’d somehow gotten drunk just from walking back from the precinct. Second-hand alcohol, maybe? He’d passed a lot of bars. What the fuck was wrong with him? Hours after some asshole had tried to come on to the man, here he was ogling the prince like he was offering himself up as entertainment. Shame stabbed through him, compounding his exhaustion. 

Wu leaned close, looking at him appraisingly, worry quivering over him. “You look terrible!” A familiar weight attached to his arm, tugging him further into the room. “When was the last time you ate something?” 

“Breakfast, I guess? It’s probably too late to call room service…” He was easily shoved into a chair in the dining area of the suite, and was surprised to find himself looking at an array of covered plates. “You ordered something for me?” 

Wu was already sweeping gracefully toward the counter, grabbing them wine. “I didn’t know when you’d be back. I hope it’s not too cold…” 

He seemed genuinely worried about whether the food would be good enough, which was kind of charming, especially because it hardly mattered to a firebender if it was cold. He uncovered everything, finding that Wu had ordered him a multiple course meal because of course he had, and flicked his hand carefully over each plate. He couldn’t exercise enough precision control to cook something without a stove, but heating food was easy, and everything was steaming in moments. 

Wu reached over his shoulder to set down a glass, giggling, “Oh, right, of course,” as he watched Mako work. 

The prince joined him at the table, green eyes studying Mako’s fingers carefully. After a few seconds of wistful attention, Mako ventured, “Did you ever wish you could?” 

“What? Bend? Oh, it’s not like it would have made a-,” the prince frowned, then smothered the expression. “I never really thought about it much before. And I never went to any pro bending matches or anything like that, so before I met you, I’ve never seen firebending up close.” He was looking at Mako’s hands again, the attention making him feel clumsy and self-conscious, since he wasn’t doing anything more exciting than using a knife and fork at the moment. “…it’s beautiful though.” 

Mouth full, Mako couldn’t reply, not that he would have known what to say. No one had ever said his bending was beautiful before. Impressive, maybe. Scary, when he was using it as a weapon. Beautiful was new. He mulled it over for a bit, trying not to get distracted by Wu’s perfect fingers toying with the stem of his wineglass. Which was pointless, it was impossibly distracting, but he still eventually managed to form a full sentence at least. 

“Would you like to see more?” 

“More bending?” 

“I can take you to the pro bending arena. I know all the trainers there, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind letting us in the back. You could see the teams practicing.” 

Wu seemed to perk up, which was nice because he was still a little tentative, like he’d been since they left the factory. “Tomorrow?” 

“Sure. They don’t have bending sports where you grew up in the Earth Kingdom?” 

“Well.” The prince seemed almost embarrassed. “I don’t know… maybe they did. We weren’t allowed to go to things like that.” 

“Not allowed?” 

Wu slumped a bit in his chair and Mako finished his wine, eyes tracing over the curve of the prince’s neck and then chiding himself and putting the glass far away from the bottle. The last thing he needed was to be actually drunk when he was exhaustion drunk, and the prince was being weird and moody and making him want to pull the man close again. 

“Oh, mother, you know…” When Mako shook his head to indicate that no, he didn’t know, he added, “She had very strict ideas about what was and wasn’t appropriate for us to be exposed to.” 

“Bending wasn’t appropriate?” 

“She thought of bending more as a, uh, tool than anything else. To her it was a point of pride that there were no benders in the royal bloodline.” 

“A tool, like for a working man, you mean?” The prince’s bashful look told him he was right on the money, though it didn’t quite sit right with Mako that he was taking on embarrassment for someone else’s judgmental attitude. “How did that work? She just never allowed you to see benders?” 

“There were earthbenders at some of the royal ceremonies.” Wu was smiling in way Mako hadn’t seen before, wistful and longing. “I thought they were great, I snuck off to talk to them the first time they performed for us. They showed me a bunch of tricks, it was…” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done it. They sent people looking for me, father had them punished for showing me things without permission.” 

“That’s not your fault.” When Wu just looked away, he asked, “How old were you?” 

“I don’t know… seven or eight, I guess.” 

“You were just a kid. How could you know any better?” 

Wu was waving a hand at him again. “We should have Mr. Kotani bring in smoothies for all the pro benders tomorrow! Athletes need to stay healthy, don’t they? Ooh, we could have him set up his smoothie stand on site for the day!” 

Mako frowned but let the subject drop. “We’ll need to ask him first…” 

He finished his incredibly late dinner while Wu demonstrated a surprising depth of knowledge about catering costs and logistics. The prince was apparently ready to arrange flat rates, event pricing and set bonuses at the drop of a hat. It wasn’t any more fun than listening to lengthy screeds about tailoring measurements and fabric reams, but it was nice seeing him cheer up a bit, and he was impressed at how competent the man seemed. Mako stacked his plates out in the hallway with the rest of the dishes, feeling significantly refreshed, and genuinely excited for a trip to the pro bending arena. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent a day doing something he actually wanted to do. 

Back in the room he found Wu corking the wine, the tentative sadness having come back over him, staring absently at the wall. “Hey…” The prince jumped, startled out of whatever thoughts he’d descended into. “Are you alright?” 

“Of course!” Wu flashed him a smile, sashaying toward his room, and Mako wondered if the prince was getting worse at masking his emotions or if Mako had just been completely ignoring him for the first few months of their acquaintance. “We should head to bed; we need to be rested for our smoothie and pro bending adventure tomorrow!” 

“Wu.” The prince paused and Mako settled a hand on his shoulder without thinking about it. “I’m sorry, about today.” 

“What are you sorry about?” Wu spun and grabbed him playfully by the upper arms, squeezing his biceps, though there was a detectable tremor in his grip. “You did great! My big, tough guy, always ready to spring into action!” 

Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he was really apologizing for. He’d had every reason to think Wu was safe in a secured room with multiple witnesses and a crisis situation that wasn’t conducive to any type of liaison, and he’d done his job to the letter. But somehow, even having done his job to the letter, he’d failed to protect the prince, had left him at the mercy of what he was now certain was a very dangerous man. 

“I just… Lee, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him. It won’t happen again.” 

“Oh, that was fine, it’s not a big deal.” 

The breezy denial actually sounded genuine, and he frowned down at the prince. “It is a big deal. He was-,” 

“Really, big guy! It’s not like I can expect…” Wu directed a guilty-looking smile up at him, angling himself a little closer as if unconsciously. “It’s fine.” 

Wu didn’t feel fine, his silk-covered shoulder unsteady beneath Mako’s hand. “He doesn’t have any right to assume things about you.” 

He was very surprised to see a flash of anger cross the prince’s face, and then the man changed in a moment, murmuring, “Of course he does,” leaning in languidly and biting his bottom lip, exaggerated affect slipping over him like a cloak. “There’s no reason to play at ignorance, Mako.” 

Wu seemed to be treating his proximity like a challenge, wavering against him as if Mako would flinch away. Instead, he felt heat curling in his stomach, inhaling sharply, trying to find a way he could be misreading the situation. “…ignorance?” 

Unflinching eyes in a glittering green fixed on his own. “Surely you must be aware there are some men who would not mind being pinned beneath another man?” His drawling tone suggested Mako was being particularly disagreeable, as if he thought the firebender was putting on some sort of charade. 

“You told him to stop…” 

A delicate scrunching of his nose accompanied a glance down at the floor. “Well, not with him. Detestable man.” The prince was so close, and Mako’s pulse thundered through him. “But that doesn’t rule out the activity with other men.” 

His mouth instantly severed itself from his good sense, and Mako choked out, “Like who?” 

Wu swayed close again, unflappable and full of sex appeal and still seeming to expect that Mako was going to run away from him, then he stilled. Abruptly, Mako realized he was achingly hard, and the prince had felt it as he pressed against his front, and now neither of them seemed to know what to do. A thousand apologies died on his tongue, nothing seeming like enough to capture to gravity of his body’s presumption, and then Wu let out a soft, breathy sound and very deliberately rubbed against him and Mako gasped. 

And then good sense had abandoned him completely, because the prince was tugging at the front of his jacket, leading him forward until the man was flush against the wall, and he went with him easily, Mako’s larger body hemming him in. Wu was biting his lip again, looking up through his lashes and the affect was so arousing he actually gasped aloud again. Mako was embarrassed at himself; he was breathless and wordless like some spooked teenager, not like someone who had been with a few guys before and knew his way around the block. He’d never been with anyone like Wu though. 

Elegant fingers molded around the erection tenting the front of his pants, and he jerked and gasped again, the turn to the evening having completely thrown him, and Wu murmured, “Don’t worry, big guy, I can take care of it.” 

He wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean; taking care of it wasn’t a phrase he associated with sex. He wanted to kiss Wu, to shove himself against his pretty mouth and taste him, touch him and fondle him and swallow every sound he made, but the prince was suddenly sinking to his knees and Mako gasped again. He really was coming across like some spastic virgin, but Wu’s gorgeous hands were undoing his pants, his touch almost unbearably good just from tugging his cock out, and then he leaned forward and took Mako into his mouth and _holy shit_. 

Okay, he’d been with a few guys, but not that many, and he was significantly more experienced receiving this sexual favor from women. Either way, it had always been among his favorite bedroom activities, the trust that it required to allow teeth near so sensitive an area, the possessiveness of everything his partner had focused on making him feel good, the intimacy of tasting his release in their mouth when they were done. 

He groaned almost overly loud, every part of him keyed up, Wu’s lips sliding over the head of his cock wetly, then tightening around the shaft, his tongue cupping the underside, taking him in deeper and deeper with little movements, a flush of arousal darkening along his face as he did so. His mouth was heaven, hot and slick around Mako, cheeks hollowing in a hard, perfect suction, sliding down and then adding in a very gentle scrape of teeth as he withdrew that had Mako letting out another overly loud groan, his whole body shuddering. 

He braced one hand on the wall, let the other drop down to slide his fingers through Wu’s hair. It was already messier than usual, the prince obviously hadn’t bothered to work it to its usual coiffed perfection after showering, and the strands sifted softly through his fingers and just as he was wondering if the prince would find his touch rude, Wu let out a moan around his cock, his eyes fluttering shut, and he realized with a pulse of arousal that the prince _really_ liked it. 

“Oh, fuck.” Wu was moving over his erection faster, clever tongue doing incredible things as he did so, and Mako pet through his hair, just touching, not directing, and the prince was humming in pleasure now and shit, Mako was practically vibrating under his attentions, wondering if he could even stay standing. 

He’d been on the receiving end of this sex act plenty of times, but he’d never seen it performed with such wanton enjoyment. Wu was cradling his hips with both hands, his humming not drowning out the obscene slurping sounds of him sucking Mako off, taking him in over and over and it was the best fucking head he’d ever had and he desperately didn’t want it to end and yet he could feel the head of his cock slipping into the tight heat of Wu’s throat again and again and fuck, he wasn’t going to make it another second. 

“Shit, I’m gonna-,” 

His warning was accompanied by a gentle tug on Wu’s hair, not sure the prince would want Mako coming in his mouth, and Wu just looked up at him with a pleading, molten gaze and took him deep, a desperate sound squeezing around his mouthful and Mako saw stars, coming with a ragged cry, the pleasure of it shivering through him, his eyes fixed on the prince intently swallowing on his knees, still working Mako’s cock with lips and tongue to get all of his release. It was one of the most perfectly filthy things he’d ever seen, and he needed more than anything to make the prince feel good in return. 

As soon as he was sure he wouldn’t just crumple into a sated pile if he stopped supporting himself on the wall, he tugged the prince up to his feet. Wu had tucked him back into his pants and then stayed on his knees while Mako had been catching his breath, and when Mako leaned into him again he stiffened, looking uncertain for the first time since the firebender had touched his shoulder, averting his face. 

“What are you doing?” 

Now Mako felt uncertain too; worry creeping in. “Kissing you?” 

Wu was still staring off to the side, refusing to meet his gaze. He ran his tongue along his swollen lips, seeming nervous. Had Mako done something wrong? He felt suddenly sick. Had he pressured the prince into doing something he didn’t want to do? 

“You don’t want to kiss me. It’s fine.” 

“I… what?” 

“I told you I’d take care of it.” 

That sick feeling settled in his stomach. “Did you not want to do that?” They were so close, almost pressed together, but now he was afraid to touch the man. “You seemed… like you enjoyed it.” 

The prince went even more stiff against the wall, but finally looked at him, defiance and discomfort in his pretty eyes like Mako had meant the words as an accusation. Something like panic flashed inside him; Mako was desperate to know if what they’d just done hadn’t been wanted. He reached to brush his fingers along the prince’s jaw, and the man flinched minutely. 

“Was that okay? Did you not…?” 

Wu’s expression was all hard lines, like Mako was intentionally backing him into a corner. “No, I enjoyed it. Is that enough?” 

Relief swamped through him. “Not even close.” He wanted to lean in again, but he made himself stay still. “Can I kiss you?” 

The prince licked his lips again, obviously considering what he’d just done. “It’s fine if you don’t want to.” 

“I do want to.” He wasn’t sure why the prince needed it spelled out for him, but if that’s what had to happen, then so be it. He tried to let his voice fall low and soothing. “Can I?” 

Wu was eyeing him like he was trying to figure out the workings of some elaborate trap Mako was laying, but finally the prince nodded, and he felt another wave of relief, letting himself lean close. Wu didn’t move except to turn his face back in, so that Mako could actually reach him, and he didn’t relax when their lips pressed together. He didn’t seem unwilling, but rather like he was trying to figure the firebender out. There was no angle to figure out as far as Mako knew, but he moved gently, carefully, wanting his intent to be clear. 

He swiped his tongue slowly over the crease of Wu’s mouth, and his lips parted in a quiet gasp, but that didn’t seem like an invitation, so he kept the kiss chaste for a few moments, repeating the gesture when the prince seemed less reserved, and this time Wu responded, pressing back, opening his mouth in clear invitation. He wanted to plunder the man’s mouth, get at every reminder of the perfection of Wu going down on him, but he was still careful, sliding their tongues together, slow and hot, groaning at the combination of the heat of the prince and the lingering taste of himself. 

For whatever reason, that was what seemed to actually relax the prince. Wu’s hands settled on his waist, tucking his narrow frame closer, his body shivering with released tension. Mako felt the prince’s hardness against him, prompting another rush of relief, proof that his touch was wanted, and he finally moved his hands from where they’d braced on the wall. He cupped the back of Wu’s neck, drawing him more firmly into the kiss, groaning again as Wu let out another one of those maddening little breathy sounds into him. 

He wormed his other hand between them, where Wu had started to undulate against his thigh, and traced his fingers along the part of the robe, above where silken fabric was draped over straining hardness. Their lips parted so he could murmur, “Is this okay?” and Wu nodded, pushing back up into the kiss. 

He seemed intent on mapping every part of the firebender’s mouth with his tongue, which was more than fine as far as Mako was concerned. He was quite content to let the prince have his way with the kiss, sliding his hand through the part in the robe and finding hot heat waiting for him. He wrapped his fingers around Wu’s cock, groaning again. The man felt great in his hand, girthy and substantial, long enough to stroke and play with easily, and wet, fuck, he was so wet. The prince’s cock was slick with precum, he could feel it leaking out of the tip, _fuck_ , he really had enjoyed sucking Mako off, and the heady proof of it was enough to make his head spin. 

Wu lost the coordination to stay in the kiss as Mako stroked him, firm and hard, panting against his mouth as Mako tuned himself to every twitch and jerk of his body, wanting to know what he liked, what would make him feel good. The comment about being pinned beneath another man came to mind, and he shook off the flash of rage he harbored at Lee in favor of pressing in, using his weight on Wu’s lithe body, getting him more tightly trapped against the wall, and a wanton sound accompanying a hard pulse in the prince’s cock told him he was on the right track. He growled and pressed in more, stroking faster; Wu was hardening and leaking wetly into his hand, he had to be close. 

Fingers gripped his hair, the prince thrust and pushed into his hand as much as his trapped body could, mouthing at him and almost whimpering with need, and then he cried out Mako’s name, holding onto him like he was the only thing that mattered, as if he’d been directly privy to Mako’s personal fantasies about this moment. His cock jerked and pulsed and coated Mako’s hand while he caught the prince in another kiss, swallowing his whimpered, keening moan with enthusiasm. 

They continued kissing, he wasn’t sure for how long, soft and slow. He kept the mess in his hand away from the robe, which had fallen most of the way open, but his other was free to roam, and he wanted to touch every inch of the man. The little ticklish squirm when his fingers trailed over Wu’s ribs almost made him laugh, and they finally parted to look at each other, and then of course he didn’t know what to say. 

Probably the first thing he should do was stop pinning the man to the wall, so he could leave if he wanted. Shit, Mako hoped he didn’t just leave. Worry was returning, that he’d done something the prince didn’t want, had taken advantage of him in some way. 

“Was that okay?” 

Wu sent him a wry smile, leaning against the wall, most of him on display with the open robe spilling around him, the sight enough to get Mako’s cock stirring in interest again. “Oh, yes. You’re pretty good with your hands even when you’re not firebending.” 

Some of his confidence was coming back, in the cocky set of his shoulders, his eyes fallen halfway closed, perusing Mako from head to toe, and, oddly, Mako felt himself blushing. It was the first compliment from the prince that felt at all important to him. He’d been trying to get the prince off, was gratified to hear he’d pleased him. Still… now what? The words _you’re pretty good with your mouth_ came to mind, but that sounded way too close to potentially insulting, and Wu’s stiffness with his touch immediately after going down on him still preyed on Mako. But what could he do beyond ask if the prince was okay? Wu was giving him very little to go on, and Mako was nothing if not awkward in situations like this. 

As if he could see the thought spiral on Mako’s face, Wu shook his head, still smiling that wry smile. “We should get to bed, big guy. Lots to do tomorrow.” 

He seemed okay, though he was strangely subdued, if only relative to his usual boisterous energy. The low-level amusement in his tone and expression was miles of improvement on his flinching tension, but it still felt… remote. Mako got the sense that he was being shut out, that there was some whole other layer of information he wasn’t privy to, even as Wu shooed him breezily toward his own room and promised, lying as always, to be up bright and early the following day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially I wasn't sure if I was gonna write anything from Wu's POV, the idea of doing the whole story just from Mako's perspective held some interest, but obviously that didn't last :/ 
> 
> You guys are all the best, seriously, you make me want to write faster! Comments are truly, madly, deeply appreciated if you have a moment to leave one!


	4. Chapter 4

When they showed up at Mr. Kotani’s smoothie stand just as the elderly man was opening for the day with an outlandish plan to have him relocate his entire operation on a whim, Mako found him to be surprisingly amenable. Wu was a force to be reckoned with when he wanted something, and the prince was one of the old man’s most faithful customers. The old man was also one of the only people Mako ever saw speak plainly to the prince, like he was just a normal person, calling him ‘Wu’ instead of ‘your highness’ and occasionally smacking him on the back of the head and telling him off for being ridiculous. 

That morning featured one such fond gesture, as Wu took his assent for granted and started packing up his smoothie stand before the man had agreed to anything. But Mr. Kotani just laughed at him as the prince wailed, “Wu down!” and sprawled dramatically on the sidewalk and began to gather everything he’d need to temporarily set up in the pro bending arena. 

Wu flitted around him the whole way, rattling off costs and services and an idea he’d had for a specialty athletic-boosting smoothie they could pitch to the training benders along with Mr. Kotani’s regular selection. Mako scanned the area around them for potential threats and tried his best to pretend like it was a very normal day doing his very normal job. 

Which it definitely was. 

The precinct had been notified to secure the arena, and the ranking officer saluted and stiffly informed him she’d confirmed everything was ready as they headed inside. The place was under the same management it had been when he and Bolin had called it home, and while he wasn’t exactly fond of the man who’d taken practically every cent they’d ever earned for rent and equipment and various, often unspecified, ‘services’ they somehow always owed, the manager seemed plenty happy to see him. Probably hoping the prince was looking to make an investment in the arena in exchange for having part of the building named after himself or something. 

The manager couldn’t seem to figure out what the point of having Mr. Kotani there was, but the prince handled him so easily that in minutes they were inside the main training area, blending fruit and yogurt and various essential herbs and boosters like Mr. Kotani had worked there all his life while the manager blinked at them in confused surprise. The pro benders on site all seemed thrilled to see the city’s most well-known smoothie stand suddenly setting up shop just a few feet away from them, and ecstatic when Wu breezily announced that they should get whatever they wanted because he was footing the bill for the day. 

Nothing got people excited like free stuff. The benders crowded around, everyone shouting their orders, and for a moment in the chaos Mako lost sight of the prince. And then found him again, being escorted away from the crowd by a pretty waterbender girl in a Wolfbat uniform, who was giggling and showing him the training equipment while he swooned over her and opined about how glorious her hair was. 

Motherfucker. 

He knew it was ridiculous to get jealous over some flirting when just the previous night he’d had the prince pressed against a wall, panting into his mouth while he stroked the man to completion, but somehow, he still was. It didn’t help that Wu seemed determined to be his usual self, complaining about the early hour and hanging off him like he was a prop, but never actually talking about what they’d done the previous night. 

It wasn’t as though they’d signed up to have and to hold just because the prince had sucked him off, so he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but this total lack of reaction was off putting to say the least. The prince had given him the best blowjob of his life, the memory of which had brought him off embarrassingly quickly in the shower that morning, and he was acting like nothing at all important had happened. All while still flirting with every woman who came within a few feet of him while Mako tried to quell his raging jealousy. 

Gone was the strange vulnerability, the tension, but also any hint that he was interested in anything Mako might have to offer. The emotional whiplash between what he’d been expecting and how the prince was actually acting was sharp, and he knew he was radiating his irritation at everyone, though he hadn’t realized how much until Mr. Kotani patted him on the shoulder in a grandfatherly way, following Mako’s eyeline toward the prince and the waterbender. He was immediately paranoid that he’d given something away about his possessive attraction and his pathetic jealousy, but as he eyed him carefully, the old man just gave him a small smile and turned back to his blender without a word. Odd. 

Moments later the prince had bounded back to him, snatching a smoothie and leaning against Mako’s side with a flourish, announcing, “The Wolfbats are going to start training!” 

His irritation eased a bit, then surged as the waterbender sent the prince a jaunty wave of her hand before dropping into her stance and bending a dramatic arc of water at her teammates. He suppressed a growl. Whatever. Let the prince hook up with a pretty waterbender, see if he cared. An insistent prodding at his chest made him look down, to find the prince floating a drink in front of him. 

He accepted it as the prince demanded, “Tell me how it works!” 

It was his favorite blend, making him wonder if Wu had simply gotten lucky or if the prince had committed his favorite smoothie to memory for some reason. They lounged against the wall beside Mr. Kotani’s stand, Wu using him more for support than the concrete, while Mako explained the rules of pro bending. The prince watched the Wolfbats slinging water, fire and stone discs at each other with a bright, happy interest, grinning and nodding along to Mako’s comments. It was kind of nice, even if a petty part of him wanted to ask if the prince thought the Wolfbat’s firebending was beautiful, or if that was just for when Mako did it. 

Almost like he’d read his mind, Wu snatched his empty smoothie cup away, declaring, “I think I understand the rules. Will you show me some moves?” 

“Uh…” He wasn’t in pro bending equipment, and whatever his petty mind wanted to think, he was a little self-conscious about trying to show off for anyone. 

“Please, Mako? Please, please, please?” 

Goddamn, fetchingly attractive whining. “Fine.” The prince might be able to get him to do things, but he was at least going to act like he didn’t like it. 

Wu had time to let out an excited whoop while he unbuttoned his jacket, stripping down to his tank top so at least he wouldn’t sweat out his uniform. 

As soon as the buttons were undone, Wu was tugging the jacket off him, folding it carelessly over his arm while somehow keeping all the creases lined up right so it wouldn’t wrinkle. A few fresh teams had come in for their session with the training room, and he jogged over to those in Catgator colors. There was plenty of turnover among pro bending teams, but the firebender for the Catgators was still around, and he was one of the few people Mako hadn’t been totally standoffish with in his pro bending days. 

Kato’s handsome face lit up at the sight of him. “Mako! The old man said you’d be coming by today, but I wasn’t sure I believed it!” 

He let himself be pulled into a quick hug in deference to the lack of animosity between them. “It’s not like I have a lot of free time these days.” 

“Sure, sure, just saving the world left and right, no time for us little people or our silly games, huh?” 

It was exactly the kind of thing a lot of his peers had sneered at him over the last few years, but he knew Kato meant it kindly. He landed a comradely punch on the firebender’s shoulder. “Yeah, well, now I’m just a bodyguard. It’s hardly saving the world stuff.” 

“Right.” Concern darkened Kato’s amber eyes. “I heard about what the avatar went through with that crazy terrorist. I’m so sorry, that must have horrible for her. And for you as well. How’s she doing?” 

Mako tried not to flinch. “Better. Much better, she’s with her family at the Southern Water Tribe now. She’ll be back at it before any of us know it.” In theory, at least. He wasn’t exactly current on Korra’s health and welfare, since he hadn’t received a single reply to any of his letters, but that was a whole other thing. 

“That’s good.” 

“Yeah.” A moment of awkwardness passed, until Mako remembered why he’d even come over. “Uh, so I’m here with my… with the heir to the Earth Kingdom royal family.” 

“Right, bodyguarding, that’s what you said.” Kato leaned around Mako to eye up the prince, giving him an appreciative once over. “People say he’s kind of a jackass, but he’s awfully pretty at least.” He elbowed Mako with a conspiratorial grin. 

“Hey, none of that.” 

“Aw.” The firebender leaned closer, still grinning. “You never minded when I flirted with you, team captain.” 

Mako glared; that was true, but it didn’t mean he was thrilled to have him orienting that interest in Wu’s direction. Particularly when it turned out Wu didn’t mind having a man come on to him, and Kato was a broad, gorgeous pro athlete that had been even more popular than Mako among the fans, men and women alike. He told himself that was because Kato was outgoing and charming, things Mako had never bothered to try to be when he was pro bending, not because Kato was better looking than he was. Even if Bolin had once called him ‘the cooler, hotter Mako’ and gotten slugged for it. But he didn’t want those looks or that charm getting focused on the prince. For security reasons that definitely existed and were very important. He would think of some, in a minute. 

“You’re as much fun as ever,” Kato teased, reaching up to brush back a lock of hair that had fallen over Mako’s forehead. 

He jerked his head back. “Stop it. I just wanted to ask if you’d spar with me for a bit.” 

“Spar?” 

“The prince wants to see some firebending moves.” 

“And you’re obliging him? You? The guy who regularly kicked fans out on their asses rather than take two seconds of his time to give them a little thrill?” 

“I wasn’t that bad!” 

Kato snorted, pulling on his helmet and bumping his hip into Mako’s in a mock rebuke. “Uh huh. Grab yourself a helmet off the rack, team captain, I’ll help you give his highness a show.” 

And then the motherfucker made a flourishing, dramatic bow at Wu, prompting an excited little bounce from the prince and a growl from Mako as he fetched a helmet from the rental array, reminding himself that Kato was totally harmless, and it wasn’t fair for Mako to want to put him on his ass just for being a shameless flirt. 

__________ 

Wu was painfully aware that his family’s constant commentary on his remarkable suitability for event planning had been anything but complimentary, sandwiched as it always was between remarks on how strong and tough his brothers were, but he _was_ very good at event planning. And despite the implied criticism, he liked being good at it. He’d budgeted the day’s costs and logistics for Mr. Kotani practically on the fly, and the old man had crinkled his face in a fond smile that made Wu want to wiggle in pride. Which he did the entire way to the pro bending arena because he had every reason to be cheerful today. 

He could feel Mako’s eyes on him all morning, studying him even as the firebender tried to be subtle about it, but he knew how carefully their interactions had to be handled for the next few days, so he made his business setting up a wildly successful smoothie give away and learning the rules of pro bending. And if he’d spent a little time in bed that morning getting himself off to thoughts of Mako’s lovely cock in his mouth and his toned body pinning Wu easily beneath his weight, well, that was inevitable. Of course, jerking off to fantasies about his bodyguard felt riskier when he had real, actual memories to call on, but it couldn't be helped. Despite being a constant companion, regret had never served him well, and he was endeavoring not to let it have a say in his mood. 

And no matter how careful he had to be to avoid suspicions that he was setting up some kind of mantrap for the gorgeous firebender, it was beyond wonderful to have finally had a little bit of the Mako, however briefly. And enough. It was enough. Even if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Mako again. 

That had been unexpected. Wu had always loved kissing, that ultra-close connection, the shared intimacy between two people, the slick, hot indulgence of his oral fixation, every part of it made him shivery and excited. Of course, among the many drawbacks of his oral fixation was the extreme distaste so many men had for kissing after receiving a blowjob. He’d found he could indulge in one or the other of his heady oral impulses, but not both. The discovery that Mako actually did find him attractive had been intoxicating enough to bring him almost immediately to his knees, and he had no regrets about how that had gone. And anyway, just because he got the firebender hard didn’t mean he’d want to do something as intimate as kissing, another fun lesson he’d learned fairly young. _There’s nothing gay about getting your dick sucked_ was a common refrain. Kissing was another story, it seemed. 

And yet. 

_Can I kiss you?_ Mako had wanted to, asked him to. The memory made him suppress a giggle every time he thought about it. His big, tough, pro bending, world-saving bodyguard was, of all things, polite in bed. Polite. In bed. He asked permission, and for such simple things. Wu enjoyed being ordered around in the bedroom on occasion, but he hadn’t realized that being _asked_ could raise a different, but no less intense, heat inside him. The sweet way Mako had pet through his hair while he’d had the firebender in his mouth, not grabbing or forcing, just touching like he wanted to be a part of Wu’s enjoyment, the questions, the consideration in his hands on Wu’s body, all of it was odd and delightful, a new facet of sexual experiences he hadn't realized he would enjoy. 

No, he had no regrets about what they’d done. But since he’d offered himself up in an effort to repair their strained rapport, it would be the height of idiocy to fuck it up now. He hated that stiff, weird, overly intense demonstration of how unwanted you were as a person that men did to head off any chance of accidentally winding up in a relationship, and he wasn’t prepared to deal with it again when he could just avoid it altogether. 

Flirting with women was a favorite foil, and like any good affect, it served multiple purposes. The Wolfbat waterbender was cute and nice, engaging with his flirtation with a flattered interest that wasn’t overbearing, showing him the equipment and describing her team’s training regimen. By the time he’d talked Mako into showing him some moves, Wu was starting to feel like he had the hang of pro bending as a sport. 

Mako agreeing to perform just because he’d asked was absurdly gratifying, even if it had drawn him immediately toward another man. The pro bender Mako fetched to spar with was as ridiculously attractive as Mako himself, with the markedly pale skin and amber eyes that were typical of a firebender, cut and toned with noticeably more muscle mass than his bodyguard, sauntering through the training area with the confidence of a fighter who knew they had perfect mastery of their craft. He also hugged Mako, the first time Wu had seen anyone else touch him, and Mako had let him, had tolerated hair brushing and hip bumping and a flirty affect that looked very different to Wu after having felt rock hard proof that the firebender liked men just fine. 

Of course, he couldn’t treat the surge of possessiveness as anything other than trivial and inappropriate. He knew he didn’t get to be possessive. Men like Mako and his broad, vigorous pro bending friend, they got to covet, they got to be possessive. Men like Wu got to be possessed, if they got anything at all. 

He briefly worried about Mako as the two firebenders faced off. The newcomer was wearing full pro bending gear, while Mako looked exposed in just a helmet and tank top over his uniform pants. Not that the view was terrible. The rippling of muscles over his shoulders and down his arms as he sank into a crouch and raised his hands was downright distracting. Then they were in motion, bending bright arcs of fire at one another, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. 

In truth, Wu didn’t remember much of what Mako had done during the kidnapping attempt. There were little flashes of men with sour breath and worse-smelling clothing dragging him around, fingers digging painfully into his wrists, heat and cries of pain from his assailants. Wu recalled being blinded by what he’d only realized later must have been a bolt of lightning. It had passed terrifying close to him; its target deafening him with a scream, the scent of burning flesh erupting to fill the hallway. And then he’d been pulled tightly against Mako, moving and stumbling and then they were back in the room and the firebender was touching him slowly, carefully, checking for injuries. 

It had been the opposite of a pleasant experience, but he longed to see his bodyguard firebend again, to see more than the glimpse of him using it to heat up his dinner. With no threat to his life, with the pleasure of knowing Mako was doing this only because he’d asked, watching was exquisite. There was no killing intent between them, he and the other firebender moving like liquid around each other in friendly competition, ducking and grinning and sending blasts that blazed like infernos through the training area. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on the two of them, so Wu could watch as closely as he wished, twisting the end of his scarf between his fingers. 

They were both so graceful. He hadn’t realized bending could look like that, almost like a dance. The earthbending he’d seen in his childhood had been quite impressive, the benders throwing out strong, harsh gestures, thrusting their whole bodies into manipulating stone and metal. It was heavy and solid, jerky and abrupt. Firebending was aggressive, but smooth, bright yellows and oranges twisting around their arms, circling their torsos, each of them dodging the other and throwing a return volley in masterful, unbroken gestures that rippled through their bodies, moving more like acrobats than fighters, so light on their feet. 

It wasn’t long before they were both sweating and breathing hard, fists up, and the other firebender nodded at Mako, who tilted his head in agreement. They were familiar, comfortable with each other, could speak without speaking even when they were both so keyed up. It made part of Wu ache, even as his mouth dropped open at the spectacle. The other firebender had spun himself forward, conjuring an enormous blaze around him, and whipped it at Mako, so fast Wu’s eyes could barely follow the motion. For the first time, Mako made no attempt to dodge, but sidestepped, his arms snapping out, gathering the attack to himself until he was flicking his hands gracefully around it, finally leaning into a lunge and hurling his captured fire back at his opponent. 

The other firebender yelped in what sounded like genuine surprise, going over on his back to avoid being struck, and putting both hands in the air from the floor. “Alright, alright, you got me!” 

Mako straightened out of his lunge, satisfaction clear in every part of his posture, tugging the helmet off and wiping a hand over his forehead. Wu had already leapt toward them, heedless of the other training benders. 

“That was amazing!” 

To his incredulous amusement, a faint blush dusted over Mako’s cheeks at the praise, and Wu was struck by the tantalizing prospect that Mako had been _trying_ to impress him. The urge to needle him and try to get him to blush again was intense, but they were interrupted by the other firebender rolling gracefully to his feet, cracking his neck with a grimace. He looked a little huffy when he pulled his helmet off, but he was still grinning. 

“Jeez, team captain, you still don’t fuck around.” 

Wu cocked his head. “Team captain?” 

“Ignore him,” Mako murmured flatly, but the other firebender was already beside him, boldly leaning on one of Mako’s shoulders, his gaze fixed on Wu, who was confused. 

“Were you part of the Fire Ferrets? I thought there was only one firebender per team?” 

“Oh, that’s true, he was never _my_ team captain. I just call him team captain because our Mako likes to be in charge of everything. Never seemed to hesitate to dole out orders, even to the other teams, did you?” 

Mako glared and shook him off. “I didn’t order anyone around.” The other firebender just laughed at him, and he shook his head in resignation. “This is Kato, team captain of the Capital City Catgators. Kato, Prince Wu of the Earth Kingdom.” 

Kato winked one pretty amber eye at him, shaking his hand firmly. “Charmed, naturally. I hope you enjoyed the show, your highness.” 

He was relaxed and a little sultry, radiating the charm of a habitual flirt, smooth enough that Wu didn’t realize they were still holding hands until it had passed the point of politeness into something more intent. He tugged his hand away, feeling Kato draw his fingertips over his palm as they parted in what had to be a deliberate move and, despite himself, felt a little flattered. 

“It was a very impressive show.” 

“More for Mako here than myself, though.” Kato landed a friendly punch on Mako’s shoulder, who had gone oddly stiff while they’d been shaking hands. “He always was a cut above. I hope he’s taking good care of you, your highness.” 

It was an easy opportunity to sidle over next to Mako, though he opted for a conspiratorial elbow rather than the full sideways snuggle he actually wanted. Around all these professional fighters he felt more than usual the unflattering comparison of his undeveloped form, and he absently didn’t want Mako to be embarrassed by him. Particularly because he had the galling urge to lay some kind of physical claim in front of the only other person he’d seen touch Mako, and he knew that he couldn’t. No matter how much he might want to. 

“Of course he does! I always feel safe with my big, tough guy!” 

Mako sent him a strange look, rubbing a hand over his ribs where Wu had elbowed him as if the gentle gesture had somehow hurt him. “We should clear out of the training area, they need to get back to it.” 

“See?! Always giving out orders, team captain.” 

Mako glared, but Kato just offered a wide, friendly smile, waving off the firebender’s bad humor and asking them not to leave before he could say goodbye. They retreated to the wall by Mr. Kotani, Mako still weirdly tense, and Wu frowned as he handed over the firebender’s jacket, a worry occurring to him. 

“Are you alright? Should you not have sparred?” 

Mako just looked confused. “What do you mean?” 

He was half shrugged into his jacket, but he froze when Wu reached out to lay a palm against his stomach, right under where he’d elbowed him moments ago. “You got hurt the other night…” 

He was certain there were dark bruises under the tank top; if the sparse manhandling he’d endured had left marks, the actual attacks that had been visited upon Mako had surely left behind something much worse. Mako blinked his amber eyes – prettier than Kato’s in Wu’s opinion – down at him, looking like he was trying to figure something out. 

“Uh… I’m fine. I’ve fought through a lot worse.” 

Wu winced at the thought, reminding himself to withdraw his hand, then reaching out to button up Mako’s jacket for him when the firebender didn’t move to do so. 

“Still, I didn’t think…” He smoothed the jacket over Mako’s shoulders, automatically straightening the crease lines and erasing any wrinkles. Ah, regret, always with him. “I shouldn’t have asked.” 

He glanced up in time to see Mako rolling his eyes, a familiar gesture between them. “Did you like it?” His expression was droll, but his tone was a little too interested. 

A smile rose easily at the question, the truth tumbling out without a thought. “It was beautiful.” 

“Good.” A very faint blush appeared again as he reached out to straighten Wu’s scarf in return and then quickly looked away like he’d just realized what he was doing, and Wu was thoroughly charmed. Oh yes, this thing between them needed to be carefully managed indeed, because part of him was already completely carried away. 

__________ 

They watched the training and chatted with Mr. Kotani until the day was through. Wu insisted on waiting for the Catgators to finish their training session, because Kato had asked them to stay, and Mako tried hard not radiate his resentment. He liked Kato, he’d always liked Kato. The man was the closest thing he had to a friend outside of Team Avatar, which he reflected was kind of sad, given that he barely knew the firebender. Kato’s easy temperament and flattering attention had always been a welcome distraction in his pro bending cohort, where there was little trust and way too much competitiveness. If they hadn’t been competing with one another, he might have even hooked up now and then with the other firebender. Kato wasn’t exactly his type, but he was attractive enough that Mako imagined he was probably everybody’s type to some extent. 

Like, perhaps, Prince Wu’s. There was no question now about whether the prince was open to same sex experiences, and while it made him wonder why he only ever saw Wu flirt with women, the prince hadn’t seemed to mind fun, handsome Kato looking him over, winking at him, stroking his hand. Which had _not_ made Mako want to shove their hands apart. Not at all. 

He reminded himself that Wu had said his firebending was beautiful again and felt a little mollified. Followed by an uncomfortable moment where he wondered just how petty his ego actually was. And then whether Wu could have been talking about Kato’s firebending just as easily, since there had been two of them out there. And then he just felt mad and childish because he knew it was ridiculous, but he was genuinely fighting the urge to ask Wu to specify who he’d been talking about. 

It didn’t matter. He’d done it because Wu wanted to see some firebending, and the prince was happy, so who cared if he’d liked one of them better than the other? 

His stomach was actually aching a little, chiding him that he’d been too intent on showing off. The bruises were healing, but they hadn’t enjoyed all the leaping and kicking, and they were pulsing pain at him now. He wanted to rub over where Wu had elbowed him again, but he didn’t want the prince worrying about his injuries any more. He’d been expecting Wu to stick to his side like a burr when they were done fighting, and he’d swayed toward Mako like he wanted to. Instead, he’d elbowed him like a buddy and otherwise barely touched him. It was making Mako paranoid again that he’d done something wrong last night. 

Wu was helping Mr. Kotani pack up his stand when the Catgators finished, Kato sauntering over, looking flushed from the exertion, helmet under his arm, his eyes trained on Wu even as he stopped next to Mako. “He really is a pretty one, isn’t he?” 

“Kato…” 

The firebender ignored his chiding tone. “So energetic though, weird match for you.” 

“We’re not-,” he crossed his arms. “I’m his bodyguard, who cares if we don’t…” he struggled to find a different word and failed. “‘Match’ or whatever?” 

“Aw. Even with all that bluster, you’re still too easy to read, team captain,” Kato teased, and Mako flinched as he reached up to run a fingertip over the crease in Mako’s brow. 

He used to like this kind of attention from Kato, always lighthearted and direct, flattering but never pushing. Something about it bothered him now, and he couldn’t figure out what. 

“Mako!” Wu seemed to be over whatever had been keeping him from touching Mako, hurtling over to hug tightly around his arm, snuggling his cheek against Mako’s shoulder. “I’m so hungry! Take me home?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He made no move to shake the prince off, while Kato watched them with palpable amusement. 

“It was wonderful to meet you, your highness.” Kato inclined his head at Wu, then fixed a sincere gaze on Mako. “It was really good to see you too.” 

“Yeah.” He was surprised to find himself a little regretful to say goodbye, in spite of everything. Other than Asami, Kato was probably the only other person in Republic City who would actually be happy to see him on any given day, now that Korra and Bolin were gone. 

Before the firebender could turn back to his teammates, Wu added, “Would you like to join us for dinner sometime?” then gasped like a genius thought had just occurred to him. “There’s a new sushi restaurant that just opened uptown, freshest fish in the city!” 

That earned them a wide, indulgent smile. “Sure, I’d like that. Just let me know.” 

Wu beamed, waving at him as they parted, pulling Mako along with increasingly urgent pronouncements of hunger. God help him, he didn’t even mind. They made it back to the hotel without incident, while Wu loudly pondered over every part of the room service menu. A stack of correspondence on the little table in the entryway to the suite greeted them, and Wu snatched it up, flicking through them carelessly until he got to the last one. 

He paused by the couch, and Mako, already reaching for the room service menu, paused as well. “What is it?” 

Wu didn’t move for a long moment, staring down at the sealed envelope. “It’s from Ren Industries.” 

“What?!” 

The absolute _nerve_ , to be sending correspondence after what that rich bastard had tried to pull! Mako’s first impulse was to toss it into the fire that was already going in the far wall of the common area, or better yet, burn it himself, but Wu had already opened it, scanning the contents with an air of forced brevity. 

After letting out a slow breath, he ground out, “What does it say?” 

The prince glanced at him with an unreadable expression, then back at the letter. “Apologies for the security breach at his factory. An invitation to dinner at his house, to discuss contract negotiation for setting up Ren Industries in the Earth Kingdom.” 

It was such an appalling level of entitlement, for a moment Mako couldn’t even speak. Apologies for the 'security breach?' Not for predating on the prince like a goddamn creep? An invitation to dinner like everything was totally fine?! 

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding.” 

“Nope.” For a moment, Wu looked sick, then he pasted on a wide smile. “Well, you’re in charge of security, big guy, when do you think we can have their grounds secured for another dinner party?” 

Now he openly gaped. “You’re not seriously planning on going to his house again?!” 

Wu’s smile didn’t alter. “It would be a lucrative deal for the Earth Kingdom. Ren Industries has an enormous reach among the mining community.” 

“I… so?! After what he did, he shouldn’t be anywhere near you!” 

“I told you, it’s fine. Nothing happened. And you’ll be with me.” 

The little entreaty of trust in his voice didn’t make Mako feel any better, it just made the protective snarl in his chest turn into a roar. “Nothing happ-,” He took in a deep breath. “Look, you didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it, so I dropped it, but I don’t think that was a ‘security breach.’ I think Lee set the whole thing up just to get you alone.” 

“What do you mean?” 

The idea that it wasn’t radicals, but potential machinations by Lee himself seemed, if anything, to make the prince feel more unsafe. By the time he was done relating what the worker he’d caught had said and his own suspicions, the smile had faded from Wu’s face. He looked like he was trying to stay calm, but the vicelike clutch of his hands around the letter betrayed him. 

“Okay…” He swallowed and clutched the letter tighter. “We can manage that. We just need to make sure that you’re with me at all times, which you already mostly are-,” 

“Wu!” Wu flinched, and Mako felt terrible. The few feet of space between them stretched out like miles, the prince standing alone, crushing the letter into nothingness, refusing to acknowledge how real the danger was. “He set it up to get me away from you. We don’t know what else he’ll try, but I don’t believe he won’t try _something_. It’s not worth the risk that we won’t be prepared. How important can this contract possibly be?” 

“It’s very important.” The prince murmured the words softly, looking like he hated himself for saying it. 

“It’s not more important than your safety!” He was yelling, which didn’t seem helpful, struggling to calm down. “No goddamn contract is worth risking you getting-,” he broke off. He didn’t want to name the risks aloud, not when just thinking about them was obviously making the prince so afraid. Mako took in another breath – because it had helped so much the first time – and his voice was a little more even when he asked, “Why are you so set on this?” 

Green eyes darkened by the low light of the suite cast off to the side, Wu chewing on his bottom lip as though deciding whether or not to answer. Finally, he said, “They won’t let me leave Republic City until Kuvira has united the kingdom and quelled the uprising.” 

Thrown, Mako’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? Who won’t let you leave?” 

“My advisors. They say there’s no way to keep me safe in the Earth Kingdom right now. I asked what I could do from here and they-,” his narrow shoulders hunched almost imperceptibly. “Anyway, they said we would need major contracts signed with the industrial leaders here, to boost the economy once I take the throne.” The letter was crushed a little harder in his grip. “Ren Industries is the contract they’re most interested in; Lee Ren has made it known he wants to move to Ba Sing Se to oversee the creation of a whole new factory network there. The cash flow would be enormous, it would create thousands of jobs…” 

Mako had accompanied the prince on the very few meetings he’d taken with his advisors, but he’d always stayed outside the room. He had no idea what was said behind those doors, but he felt certain Wu’s advisors hadn’t meant for the prince to put his personal safety at risk in order to secure a few lousy contracts. 

“Look. I don’t know much about these industries. But I know that Asami refuses to work with Mr. Ren or his son, which means they have competitors who do the same things they do. You’re the one with the power to hand out these contracts. Why not talk to his competitors, see if they’ll offer you something better?” 

Wu’s grip loosened, then tightened. “They said the priority was Ren Industries.” 

Mako frowned. “Why should Ren get exclusive pick here? Isn’t it standard practice to shop these kinds of contracts around to try to get the best deal?” Some of the boring business crap Asami always talked about had stayed in his head, apparently. 

“I don’t know…” Wu glanced down at the table in front of the couch, where the book he’d been reading yesterday still sat. “I don’t know much about this stuff either.” 

Mako joined him by the couch so he could crane his head down at the book. “‘Modern Steel and Mobile Manufacturing?’” For a moment he was stunned into silence. “Where did you even get this?” 

“I asked my advisors for a selection of books on economic trade and manufacturing.” Wu shot him a self-deprecating smile. “I don’t think they imagined I’d actually read any of them.” He dropped the crumpled letter by the book, sinking down onto the couch. “I know it’s stupid. They already know what they’re talking about, I’m not going to know better than them just because I read a few books on economics.” 

Mako sat beside him, eyeing the enormous tome. He’d completely forgotten his surprise at finding Wu reading on the couch the previous day – for an understandable reason – but now that he knew what he’d been reading it was even more of a shock. If he’d pictured the prince reading at all, he would have imagined fashion magazines or gossip columns. He winced to himself. Wu’s advisors had probably thought the same thing. 

“It’s not stupid. If you’re going to be arranging contracts, then you should know what you’re doing. That makes perfect sense. There are other steel manufacturers out there. There’s no reason you should be forced to deal only with Ren Industries. Even if you wind up signing a contract with them later, you could probably make a better deal for the Earth Kingdom by getting a few competing bids.” 

Wu mulled that over, staring at the sparse cover of the book, a black and white shot of a Satomobile with blocky text laid over it. Beside it, the crumpled dinner invitation seemed to demand to be addressed. Mako didn’t have a doubt what Lee was intending for the dinner engagement. Beside him, Wu took in a careful breath, though he sounded upbeat when he spoke. 

“That’s not a bad idea. You said Asami Sato contracts with another steel manufacturer. Do you think she’d agree to meet me for lunch and tell me about them?” 

Mako shot him a deadpan look. “If you can manage not to hit on her for every moment of that lunch, probably.” 

He imagined the grin Wu shot him was more knowing that simply playful, but the prince put up his hand like he was making an oath. “I’ll be on my best behavior. You have my word!” 

Mako gave him an appraising look, shaking his head. “Do you even…?” 

Wu cocked his head. “Even what?” 

He shook the question off. “Never mind. I’ll call her tomorrow.” He tugged the prince to his feet. “Come on, let’s order some dinner.” 

Wu sailed past him, suddenly cranked back up to maximum drama, yelling, “Finally! I’m starving half to death here!” 

The crumpled letter from Lee was left on the coffee table, the edges barely peeking out over the shadow cast by the substantial economics book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the fucking best, seriously, I adore every one of you fantastic mofos reading along! This story is definitely starting to get away from me, I can _feel_ it getting longer... O.O 
> 
> HEARTS HEARTS HEARTS for those leaving comments, you all make my damn day every time you do, I love hearing what you think! I love it thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much!!!


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